01/06/2026
I was meant to write a long post for Anti-Poverty Network SA yesterday.
I didn't get to it.
Not because I have ADHD (and perhaps AuDHD but who has the money for another assessment).
Not because I need a new hip and the cold weather and pain has been making life a little harder.
Not because I'm trying to find a job and not having much luck.
Not because I'm volunteering countless hours each week with Anti-Poverty Network SA.
Not because I'm still navigating life after losing my mum last year, after caring for her for eight years.
Not because there never seems to be enough time, enough money, enough energy, or enough support.
Not because I couldn't think of a topic.
If anything, that's the problem.
There are too many things to write about.
Do I write about people being forced to survive on below-poverty payments?
Do I write about the housing crisis?
Do I write about pensioners going cold because they can't afford to turn on the heater?
Do I write about food insecurity?
Do I write about people trapped on partner payments and unable to escape abusive relationships?
Do I write about the growing number of people sleeping rough?
Do I write about the fact that governments can commit to spending around $33 million every day for the next 30 years on AUKUS while telling people in poverty that there’s no money available?
There are too many stories.
Too many injustices.
Too many crises.
Too many people being left behind.
And last night I was reading Staying Prepared in Uncertain Times: Practical Steps for Individuals, Households and Communities.
Imagine that.
We live in a country where ordinary people are being encouraged to prepare themselves for uncertain times while governments tell us the economy is doing well.
Yet more people are sleeping rough.
More people are relying on food relief.
More people are unable to afford housing.
More people are choosing between heating and eating.
More people are carrying the stress of knowing that one unexpected bill could push them over the edge.
If this is what "doing well" looks like, perhaps it's time we admitted that something is deeply wrong.
Not because the washing needs doing, the emails need answering, the phone calls need returning, the house needs cleaning, the paperwork keeps piling up, or because there are a hundred things on my to-do list that never seem to get done.
It's because of all of it.
Because I'm tired.
Because I'm grieving.
Because I'm worried.
Because I'm frustrated.
Because I'm angry.
I'm angry that people who have never had to choose between food and medication think they know what poverty is.
I'm angry that politicians can find billions for tax cuts, defence spending and submarines, but somehow there’s never enough money to ensure everyone has enough to eat.
I'm angry that the Australian Government can commit to spending around $33 million every single day for the next 30 years on AUKUS, while telling people on JobSeeker, Youth Allowance and related payments that there simply isn't enough money to lift them out of poverty.
I'm angry that people receiving welfare payments, especially
JobSeeker are still expected to survive on payments that leave them below the poverty line.
I'm angry that disabled people are constantly forced to prove they deserve support.
I'm angry that renters are paying more and more of their income just to keep a roof over their heads.
I'm angry that pensioners and low-income households are sitting in cold homes because they're terrified of the next power bill. Right now, I'm sitting here wearing gloves and a scarf, wrapped in a heated blanket, because turning on the heating feels like a luxury.
Nobody in a wealthy country should have to make those calculations.
I'm angry that food banks are becoming a permanent part of our social safety net instead of a temporary emergency response.
I'm angry that people experiencing poverty are blamed for circumstances they didn’t create.
And I'm angry because I know the toll this takes on people.
I see it every day.
I see the parents skipping meals so their children can eat.
I see people sleeping in cars, on couches, in overcrowded homes, or in housing that isn't fit to live in.
I see people rationing medication because they can't afford another script.
I see people trapped in abusive relationships because they cannot afford to leave. I see people forced onto partner rates that leave them financially dependent on someone else, regardless of the reality of the relationship or the safety of their situation.
I see people who are doing everything society asks of them and still cannot get ahead.
Sometimes people ask activists how we keep going.
The truth is that sometimes we don't.
Sometimes we're exhausted.
Sometimes we're overwhelmed.
Sometimes we stare at a blank screen knowing there are things that need to be said and simply don't have the energy to say them.
But we keep coming back because the issues don't disappear when we log off.
Poverty doesn't take a day off.
Hunger doesn't take a day off.
Homelessness doesn't take a day off.
The systems that keep people struggling don't take a day off.
So neither do the people fighting for change, even when we're tired.
Especially when we're tired.
What keeps me going is knowing that poverty is not inevitable.
It is not a personal failure.
It is not the result of bad choices.
It is the result of political choices.
And different choices are possible.
Every improvement to income support, every affordable home built, every debt waived, every service funded, every person treated with dignity instead of suspicion happens because ordinary people refuse to accept that things have to stay the way they are.
Don't tell me not to be angry.
Poverty is violent.
Homelessness is violent.
Hunger is violent.
Preventable suffering is violent.
The people experiencing these things every day don't need less anger.
They need more people willing to be angry alongside them.
So yes, I'm ragey.
I'm ragey because people deserve better.
I'm ragey because I've watched too many people suffer unnecessarily.
I'm ragey because I know another Australia is possible.
Like taxing our gas - that could be a game changer! But Anthony Albanese and the Australian Labor Party aren't willing to tax them.
And that’s why I'm back today, and I'll be back tomorrow.
Change is possible - poverty is a political choice.
Samantha - Volunteer Campaigns Co-coordinator
(Video from Molly and Briony Benjamin on Instagram - link in comments)
