CFS: Hi there. You’re about to hear stories from people with lived experience of homelessness and housing insecurity. As these storytellers reveal, they never imagined that any of these terrible things would happen to them. But they do believe that it could happen to anyone, and that it is the responsibility of everyone to care for the people going through it.

These stories reflect on experiencing a broken system. Although these struggles happened many years ago for some of them, their stories were ironically recorded during Australia’s ongoing cost-of-living crisis in 2024, when homelessness and poverty remain as relevant as ever for many modern families. Here, our storytellers share what they believe needs to change about that system.

Supported by Shelter WA, funded by the Sisters of St John of God and produced by Centre for Stories, these stories were recorded on Whadjuk Nyungar boodjar. We pay our respect to Nyungar Elders, and all Nyungar Elders from the beginning, who are the knowledge-keepers and custodians of this place.

A quick warning – our listeners are cautioned that this story may contain content that will be triggering for some, including substance use and mental illness. Please take care of yourself while listening and take a break if needed. If you or someone you know is feeling suicidal, please call Lifeline on 13 11 14.

This is Kelly Campbell’s story.

KC: I’m Kelly. I have lived experience of homelessness and for years, nobody listened to me.

In 2019, I had a stroke. I wouldn’t recommend it.

I remember the first time I went to Centrelink, the neurologist and the social worker from the hospital had given me instructions to ask to speak to a social worker at Centrelink. And when I got there and asked to speak to the social worker, I was asked if I was experiencing domestic violence, which I answered no to that. I was told I was not able to see a social worker unless I was experiencing domestic violence. So, I had to take a seat and wait my turn with everyone else and go through the process from scratch with my medical exemption.

That was difficult for me. I wasn’t eligible for disability support pension at that time. You had to wait two years to qualify for the criteria with your permanent disability, just in case magically you recovered from your permanent disability. And because the disability support pension ties in with receiving NDIS in a systemic type of way, I didn’t qualify for NDIS either.

So that was, yeah, a… difficult reality at that time for me.

At the same time, I was renting a house, but I was unable to return to work. That’s why I’d gone to Centrelink. So, I did rely on some financial support.

The owner wanted to sell the property and I had the owner and the real estate salesperson pushing me to accept a sales agreement and wanting to pay me out $800, that they were making out was like this awesome arrangement. But in my mind, I knew I had a fixed-term tenancy lease. And that somehow having that fixed-term tenancy lease had to mean something to protect me from having to sign that sales agreement, that they kept pushing me to want to sign, so that they could sell the property and have vacant possession of the house. This would mean that I’d become homeless instantly because I didn’t have an income and I’d have nowhere to move to. And I had, yeah, not very, really limited options.

I could tell you a thousand times I wasn’t listened to, but we don’t have time for that.

I do remember at the time when all the commotion was happening with the house and financially knowing I wasn’t going to be able to afford to, well, flat out afford to go somewhere else… I’d been going up to the bush daily with the dogs and I’d been going in the day and the night. My kids and people that knew me at the time were concerned and worried about me, which I could never understand why, because I felt so safe in the bush. I always feel safe in the bush.

Getting ready for homelessness, I feel I’ve always been prepared, always had a strong connection with the bush. I grew up on a farm, had lots of family issues, and spent a lot of time in the bush because it became my safe space. From a really young age I started traveling with my dad and learning about the bush. He was teaching me all kinds of things when I was traveling with him. And it prepared me with some life skills that I’ve really held onto. It’s really kept me grounded. It’s kept me safe and allowed me to share this knowledge with my own children. But it’s taught me simple things: how to light a fire, how to prepare food, how to isolate myself and not get lost.

And I think that’s why as an adult and all through my life, I’ve continued to go back to the bush because there is no judgment. The birds, the wind blowing through the trees, it’s a real… like a library. It’s such a beautiful space.

My memories with my dad and all the things that made me ready for homelessness… After my stroke, after fighting to stay in my rental, my lease did end. I was transient for a while and I lived on the floor of my son’s house for a bit there. And it was really bad. And again, I’ve got lots of stories of how I wasn’t listened to, but we don’t have time for that.

In 2021, by this time, I was on NDIS and I saw an advertisement for a joint standing committee coming to Perth from Canberra, wanting to hear from people about the NDIS and how it was working out for them.

I called and asked, ‘How do you go about getting to speak with them and make a public submission?’ It wasn’t that difficult. And I got my name on the list. It was a really overwhelming process for me. I spent my time preparing my words and putting my list together of all the things that I had encountered with the NDIS not working out for me. And at that very time that I was going to give my public submission, I was a NDIS participant who was homeless… which felt really surreal to be arriving to that meeting. And I didn’t know what to expect.

When I did arrive there, I was greeted by a group of people who seemed really kind and friendly, which felt rather weird for me. But I took it in and waited my turn. You were able to sit and listen to a couple of other people who were ahead of me, give their public submissions.

And that left me feeling, not… I’m trying to think of the words, because it wasn’t overwhelmed in a negative way. It was overwhelmed in such a positive way that there were six people on the panel who were actually listening to the people that were sitting before them as individuals giving recounts of the hardships that they were encountering.

The individuals were giving their shared, lived experience of how the NDIS was not working for them as parents of children with disabilities. And they were adult children who had dire and complex needs. And it exposed the vulnerabilities of how extreme and how sensitive the system  was not doing the job that it was designed to do.

And one of the people who was giving their public submission before me had to pause because they were unable to continue speaking. And instead of being shut down and ignored, they were consoled, and their submission was put on hold. They were assisted to leave the room and offered to come back and try again after allowing the next person to give their submission. And it just created such a safe space that even though I was still freaking out to have to have the strength and bravery to do what I went there to do, I knew I was gonna be listened to.

My life changed when people listened to me, it’s that simple. Listen to people with lived experience because they know what they need.

CFS: Thank you for listening. This story collection was supported by Shelter WA, funded by the Sisters of St John of God and produced by Centre for Stories. You can head to shelterwa.com to learn more about their impact in driving positive change for those in need, as well as listen to the other stories in this collection.

Centre for Stories is a not-for-profit organization with charitable status. Our team is small and nimble, and we love what we do. To help us to continue to support diverse storytellers, consider a small donation. You can donate at centreforstories.com.

This podcast was produced by Luisa Mitchell, with story training from Jay Anderson and Jasmyn Hutin, and sound engineering by Mason Vellios. Thank you.