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Parramatta Girls

I wouldn’t say he was a bad man
But he got so violent
After my mother she fell ill
After her accident
She couldn’t really do much
She looked old beyond her years
And he took to drinking most the time
And scream he was her nurse
His anger was so scary
He’d shout and bang and crash
We’d try then to avoid him
In case we all got bashed
He never touched me sexually
But sometimes seemed to leer
Whenever I got close to him
Close enough to smell the beer
At 14 I had had enough
After his mates were round
Their eyes were just undressing me
And followed me around
So I left my home next morning
Took some cash – well to be sure
That I could buy some food to eat
Where would I sleep? I’d find a floor
There were other kids just like me
I found out pretty quick
Abused at home and desperate
We’d not run away for kicks
We’d hang around together
And find empty houses where
No one else would bother us
And no one seemed to care
Whether we lived or died you know
Whether we were sick or well
And life took on an emptiness
Till the day that became hell
A knock upon the door so loud
The police came breaking in
Accusing us of many things
And committing mortal sin
The magistrate just took one look
At me standing in the dock
And ordered me into State care
Said I needed a big shock
To discipline my tendencies
For independence and being free
I stood there – not yet 5 feet tall
And cried uncontrollably
They took me to Parramatta
To the Training School out there
Stripped me naked, harshly scrubbed me
And hacked off all my hair
They stung my skin with tinctures
To prevent the lice they said
Then a grubby male doctor
Made me lie upon a bed
Open your legs he shouted
I’m checking for disease
He bruised my legs, he bruised inside
The pain paralysed my knees
While he did this he's smiling
And the warders held me down
For then I did start screaming
And in my tears I almost drowned
There was blood upon the bed sheet
There was so much blood to see
It felt like that damn doctor
Had drained all the blood from me
The warders were mostly women
But the more senior were men
They all seemed so self satisfied
As I lay there so brok-en
Not a single word was uttered
When the showers they showed to me
That I must use each morning
Supervised continually
Those showers were quite open
They did not have no doors
So you had to stand there naked
While the wardens paced the floor
And timed you to the second
That you were let to bathe
Your tender teenage body
Under their steady gaze
It was hell in Parramatta
It was worse than hell I’d say
And all of this was done to me
On that first distressing day
I cried out for my mother
I even called for dad
In my whole life that’s gone on since
I have never felt so bad
But when inside the Training School
It seemed stranger than before
Everything seemed normal
Save the bars on every door
The other girls were round my age
They’d lived lives quite the same
But the warders and the Training School
Had made them all ashamed
Ashamed of what? I asked of them
When we’d whisper or we’d cry
Ashamed of simply living
Ashamed of being alive
We could not speak out loud at all
We’d be punished quick for that
And beaten by the wardens
With their fists or leather straps
The shame was mixed with anger
That our treatment was so wrong
But one day we rebelled you know
And we did things like sing songs
We climbed upon the roof as well
And threw tiles at those down there
We knew we would be punished
But – by God – we didn’t care
We’d had enough of what they did
Had enough of punishment
For none of us had done no wrong
When to Parramatta we were sent
Of course we lost this battle
Of course they were angry
And we were sent into the cell blocks
For weeks of solitary
Or branded as beyond all hope
Incorrigible was what they’d say
The ringleaders were sent by train
Five hundred miles away to Hay
Five hundred miles to break our spirits
Five hundred miles to break our souls
Five hundred miles rubbed sore by shackles
Five hundred miles away from home
There was no darker hell than this
Isolated in the bush
And a trip to Hay was what they’d say
When they would threaten us
I could tell you of the beatings
I could tell you of abuse
I could tell you of the punishments
But what would be the use?
For there seems to be an ignorance
Cast upon this land
And if we don’t hear these stories
Then we will not understand
This place we call Australia
And its position in the world
So listen to this story
Of a Parramatta girl.

For all this is quite recent
It’s not just history
It happened in the 70s
And it all happened to me.

poem by David Keig
Added by Poetry Lover
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