The caste system in Australia: First there were the convicts and the bunyip aristocracy. Now there are the white and black 'trash' and the moneyed people.
Adam is 47 and last Christmas was the first he has spent out of jail since the 90s. He hasn't done anything seriously wrong: stealing, possession of drugs, verbal abuse of police, driving without a licence ... it's a long list of predictable offences. I lived with Adam for most of this year and got to see that he belongs to a caste that is as entrenched in Australia as any of the untouchables in India.
Adam is couch surfing now and his belongings are in a storage shed in Kelso. I had a phone message: 'Steve, g'day mate, how are ya, I can't get out of the storage shed, I'm stuck in the friggin storage complex, I came in when the gate was open now I'm ringing the number, I can't get out mate, can you call me please?'
When I turned up he said: 'The coppers come here yesterday. They come because I was going through the stuff. Someone come and thought I was breaking into the shed. I don't know why the coppers come. Maybe the shorts, tattoos.
'He goes — how are you going mate, do you own this shed? I says — no I don't own it. So he says — well what are you doing here then? I says — I am renting it. They said — what do you mean you are renting it? I said — well I used to live with Fr Steve Sinn in Bant St. He says — Oh, you lived with a priest right? I go — yeah, but I'm not living there anymore, my stuff's in storage here.
'They said — we had a complaint that someone was breaking into the storage shed. I go — here I've got some ID, oh mate. He goes — whose name is it in? I said — I'm pretty sure it's in this priest's name but I'm not sure. He goes — do you own the property? Yeah, I go, look here's some ID for you. That's all I've got chief, it's me jail ID. He says — what are you doing? I says — I'm staying out of trouble. He's alright, he's alright about it.'
There is much in this exchange that is revealing. Firstly, the phone. You need to dial a mobile number to open the gate to the storage complex. I don't know why Adam's phone couldn't open it. His phones are always cracked, damaged, have no credit, cheap, borrowed or stolen. Mine opened the gate. Maybe the gate is a symbol that for Adam the gate is and will always be closed. Things just don't work for him.
"He's bipolar, he medicates on drugs, he can be reasonable Adam or hectic Adsy. Hectic Adsy chases action and doesn't turn up for appointments. Hectic Adsy comes to life on payday and plays till the money runs out."
Why did the coppers come? If it was me going through the stuff in the shed they wouldn't have been called. Adam belongs to a caste, a tribe, he's an outcast. He's aware of that, people treat him with suspicion, they keep their distance, they judge him. The tattoos, t-shirt, shorts, cap, runners, shaved sides and mullet hair style. A look and they were onto the police.
It is not just his appearance and dress, it's also his language: the banter with the police, rocking back on his feet like a boxer, no danger this time, the hierarchy and power imbalance unspoken: 'chief'. He's comfortable, he's staying out of trouble, he's got an ally, a priest, someone from the privileged class.
He's not comfortable at TAFE, even at AA meetings. He belongs with the addicts, unemployed, the lame, the sick, the mentally ill. He knows their language, understands their culture. It's the prison yard culture, it's having a protector and knowing the code.
He has to get out of the place he is in and rings me about a reference. There is no way he is going to get a place or even a hotel room: 'We are booked out at the moment. I'll ring you when there is a vacancy,' said the manager. He doesn't realise that this is the manager's way of saying he wants nothing to do with him. To be put on the list for social housing he has to turn up to 12 inspections in the private market and be rejected for all of them. Then he can go to housing and say he has been looking for a place and is homeless.
He's bipolar, he medicates on drugs, he can be reasonable Adam or hectic Adsy. Hectic Adsy has music pinging off the walls at 3am, chases action and doesn't turn up for appointments. Hectic Adsy comes to life on payday and plays till the money runs out. He's spent so much of his adult life pacing up and down a cell, five paces one way, five paces back, he's not going to live like the boring squarehead I am. Nor has he got a chance for another life. The friggin gate's closed.
Stephen Sinn is a Jesuit Priest who for 18 years was parish priest at St Canice's in Kings Cross. He moved to Bathurst in 2014 to found, with Anna Thompson, a community centred around vulnerable, marginalised men and women.
Pictured: Anna Thompson, Adam, and Stephen Sinn