(Full disclosure: I’m a member of the WRC governance group on a voluntary and unpaid basis.)
This week is Wellington Rape Crisis’ annual appeal. Despite being an organisation which provides vital crisis and ongoing support services for survivors of sexual violence and their loved ones, most of the agency’s day-to-day running costs are paid for by public donations.
Government grants typically cover specific types of work or distinct projects, and have to be reapplied for regularly (usually annually). The administration involved in all those applications is a significant cost in of itself!
As well as support work, Rape Crisis is the lead agency in the Sexual Abuse Prevention Network, which runs courses in schools, bars, government departments and professional organisations about consent, healthy sexuality, and how to be aware of and step in to stop sexual violence.
If you’re out and about on the streets of Wellington this Thursday and Saturday, look out for WRC collectors, or right here and now you can make a donation to WRC online – details at their website.
Every donation makes a huge difference.
We talk about paid work a lot in NZ politics. It’s the cure for any societal ill you care to name: poverty, mental illness, economic growth, domestic violence. But the reality is, many people cannot be in paid work. And it’s not the be-all and end-all of a person’s life.
I was reminded of this by a recent Captain Awkward post about the anxiety created for people who aren’t in paid employment when faced with the small-talk staple of “so what do you do?” or “where do you work?”
There are some great suggested responses, and also a few ideas for those of us doing the asking – what about saying “what do you do for fun?” or “what keeps you busy?” if you’re looking for something innocuous to talk about?
But there’s a wider political point. The focus on paid employment – especially full-time, permanent work – has a tremendous impact on our attitudes and policies. That’s where you get phrases like “the deserving poor” – because we can’t want to help everyone living in poverty, just the ones who make the grade.
That’s what gets dogwhistled by the phrase “hard-working Kiwis” – it’s not a line used to talk about people who volunteer at local charities or are at home raising children with disabilities. When a politician says “hard-working Kiwis”, they’re inviting you to compare yourself to those other people who don’t work hard (and just want a handout, and spend it all on fags and booze, etc etc).
Paid work is important. But so are the many unpaid forms of work which people do. Raising kids. Volunteering at community organisations which provide vital services for families, victims of crime, migrants. Organising local events and helping maintain our environment. Some of those services probably should be provided by the government; they’re not luxury extras. But for now, they rely on unpaid labour, and a lot of the time it’s actually not feasible for it to be done by people in full-time paid work.
It is possible to talk about helping people into paid work – when it’s feasible for them – and about the importance of secure jobs, good wages and conditions, and job creation. But it’s also possible to do that without implying that people who can’t or don’t work are less worthy of dignity and self-respect.