We’re being excluded from the Jobs Summit

The Australian Government is holding an invitation-only Jobs and Skills Summit in September 2022, to inform development of an Employment White Paper that will shape the future of Australia’s labour market. Today’s post by Phoebe Autumn points out that no unemployed workers or representatives have been invited to the summit, and there is no talk of changing punitive mutual obligations for income support for people facing complex barriers to work. Phoebe is an unemployed transgender woman and activist living in Western Australia on sovereign Whadjuk Noongar land. She is a keen supporter of welfare justice, public housing, public transport, and sexual, racial, and reproductive rights. This post is one of a series of articles sourced by the Australian Unemployed Workers Union about people’s direct experiences of Australia’s welfare-to-work system.

Australia is soon hitting the 100 day mark of the Albanese Labor government; the adults are back in charge. For many it’s hardly worth paying attention. Sure, groceries are a bit more expensive, bills are up a bit. Those of us on welfare have been through this before –  just tighten the belt and keep on keepin’ on. For those of us in the welfare system though, we’re being neglected more than the last election merry-go-round: the previous Labor administration promise a review of JobSeeker within 18 months of the election has been replaced by a complete refusal to boost the welfare rate and conditions, citing the deficit the Liberal National Coalition are alleged to have left us.

Two years ago, at the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, we were released from our mutual obligations and given easier access to payments, while traditional means testing was waived by temporarily dropping the assets test. This is now some of the “unacceptable” government largesse that our new Labor government has set its sights on. When Morrison brought in the COVID Supplement, we were also immediately lifted above the Henderson poverty line. My friends could afford proper food, people could pay their rent, replace clothes and feed their kids.

Instead of grappling with the abject poverty that those of us on welfare are living with in the face of an inflation crisis, the government is beating its chest about the upcoming jobs summit, with a projected aim to reach “full employment”. But crucially no unemployed workers or representatives have been invited to this summit, and there’s no talk about abolishing punitive mutual obligations. We are being actively excluded from the conversation about our own lives. The unemployment rate is relatively low, but with inflation being a problem, it’s projected to rise. But the thing about the unemployment rate is that it never really changes that much, at any time it’s usually around 4-6%, relatively stable if you’re not well versed in statistics, such as myself. Full employment may change where these percentages sit, but there will always be people unable to work for a variety of reasons, and some of these people will be unemployed for the long term.

As one of the “long-term unemployed”, having had several casual jobs over the years since I was bullied out of my career, being one of that 4-6% as a matter of existence does not bring me any comfort. Relying on various types of welfare for the past decade has made me vulnerable to debt recovery in Robodebt, reopened old wounds from my previous career , and added onerous income reporting and mutual obligations so I can keep my poverty payment. It’s a wonder why we have the Australian Tax Office at all, the way we police people relying on welfare while offering massive tax cuts to the rich.

Like many long-term unemployed people, I have several traits that may not be desirable to potential employers. I have a bad back from my stint working in aged care, which makes staying on my feet for long periods agonising, let alone making beds and showering the generation before me. I’m also a trans woman, two years into my transition, and while happy with my personal progress so far, trans rights are becoming a battleground on bodily autonomy. The wedge issue of whether we can participate in sports overshadowing our more basic needs  –  can we keep the lights on and keep a roof over our heads?

As I expressed to my Disability Employment Service provider at one of my meetings prior to the election, becoming a matter of public debate does not fill me with confidence in meeting my obligations to find work. My ability to navigate spaces, professional and social is severely hindered by having my identity questioned and debated. Political figures expressing that I am naturally a threat to other women puts a target on my back that I absolutely cannot shake without simply locking myself up in my room, away from society. Even an otherwise progressive workplace might consider what controversy my potential hiring could generate when there are many other just-as qualified candidates without that stigma.

Regardless, like other vulnerable minorities and intersections thereof, I have the same mutual obligations requirements as anyone else, just as I get the same amount of Medicare funded psych sessions, and I also get the same amount of gender confirming coverage under Medicare as any given cis person  –  hormones and literally nothing else. Existing in such precarious conditions doesn’t a comfortable life make.

The statistics of transness in employment, education and welfare are fairly clear cut. We are largely well-educated, with 47% of us holding university qualifications. 19% of us are unemployed, while 57% of us are receiving some form of welfare. (Bretherton et al., 2021, 3) I myself have a few TAFE certificates but they are in the wrong name and at $50 a pop to re-issue and no intention to go into those fields, knowing now I am physically and mentally unsuitable for them, and no ability to get diagnosis that will support a disability pension application, I am at an impasse.

It’s very easy to yell “get a job!”, betraying either a deep ignorance or a keen malice that the power to hire and fire is not that of the unemployed. And yet, with the existence of programs like Work for the Dole, I can be forced to do what used to be a fully paid position for pennies on the dollar, with virtually no workplace protections. Any bad word about the conditions could see my payment cut entirely.

At the end of the day, I have few prospects when it comes to employment, and I shouldn’t need to bombard employers with unwanted résumés. There is work I’d love to do and I would love to seek training and volunteering opportunities to get there in my own time and under my own steam.

I don’t need specialised services. I don’t need endless meetings. I certainly don’t need targeted support to hassle me out of the welfare system.

I need trans-inclusive healthcare and I need a payment above the poverty line.

This last election I seem to have received more or less everything I asked for  –  a Labor government with a strong Greens presence in the senate  – and yet, with nobody allowed to advocate for me at the upcoming jobs summit, my future feels more uncertain than ever.

Content moderator: AUWU