The global theme of this year’s International Women’s Day is Break the Bias.
When things began to change in the 1960s, I naively thought women would no longer experience inequality, discrimination and harassment. Recent revelations about Parliament House, corporates, and competitive sports are dismaying and shine a spotlight on what is still going on.
I moved to Australia in 1977 and was astonished to find women’s rights nowhere near as advanced as in Canada. I was amazed that banks would not give women housing loans.
I met women forced to quit their jobs when marrying someone working in the same firm. I got an interview for a job at a Church of England school and was told they could not offer me the role because I was pregnant and a mother’s place was in the home. These were examples of indirect systemic discrimination, embedded in policies, rules and practice.
I pursued a career and in those early years my young son went to family day care. Even though the family day care mum earned money that way, she did not approve of my working fulltime. So deep was the cultural bias.
And even at neighbourhood barbecues, the men clustered apart from their womenfolk. This felt strange.
At that time there was a lot of advocacy and state governments enacted anti-discrimination legislation which began to make a difference.
I did not experience any direct discrimination at work. Nevertheless, by mid-career I had reached a glass ceiling.
A factor was that, as a mother of young children, I always left the office at 5pm to get to the childcare centre. So while the blokes networked after work over a glass of wine or beer, I was packing the nappies, bottles and baby on the way home.
My contribution to the feminist cause was not aggressive. Rather, I was determined to show that a woman could have a career and also be a wife and mother. I forged ahead, juggling it all. I was tired but happy.
It felt like women had broken through and were becoming equals.
But direct and systemic discrimination continue. JobKeeper was not made available for universities and casual workers, a large portion of whom were women.
Also as pandemic relief, the government encouraged people to dip into their superannuation, leading many women to withdraw their savings for old age. It is now emerging that about 70,000 may have been coerced into doing so by abusive partners.
My husband and I moved to Noosa and in 2016 I was elected as Councillor. Women make up just over 50 per cent of Queensland’s population, but at that time only 33 per cent of councillors were women. In Noosa, I was the only woman elected (14 per cent).
I had never been a politician before. As a councillor I discovered another reality. It turned out that in the competitive world of political power games, anything goes to gain an advantage – including discrimination and unequal treatment of women.
During my election campaign, the Sunshine Coast Daily published a centrefold featuring each candidate. The men were described by their work. And I, who had had a substantial career, was described as a grandmother.
Once elected, I began to have concerns about council governance, so advocated strongly for transparency, evidence-based decision-making, fairness and compassion.
I encountered vehement resistance and lack of support. A big part of this was because I was expected to be compliant rather than questioning. The other councillors made many attempts to silence me and voted against my ideas.
I was treated as a problem, rather than as someone trying to contribute positively to improve council functioning.
When asked by Council about my interests, my list included the local economy, town planning, traffic and transport, and community health. Despite that, council media releases mostly only featured the male councillors.
When I raised the omission with the mayor, I was told I would be featured if something social or arty came along. That eventuated. When Council promoted free buses at Easter, I was expected to wear bunny ears in the newspaper photo. It seemed that the more serious subjects were reserved for the boys.
A 2004 report by the Department of Local Government, Women in Local Government in Queensland, looked at why women were under-represented. It pointed out:
“Women in more conservative communities in regional or rural areas may experience particular difficulty in joining and participating in the ‘boys’ club’ of local government. Sometimes these attitudes lead to harassment and discrimination. If this type of unprofessional and unethical behaviour goes unopposed by a mayor or a CEO, it can seriously impact on a woman’s desire to remain in local government. Indeed, the management styles of the mayor and the CEO are often a key contributing factor to the type of experience women have on council. Anecdotal evidence suggests that negative experience and lack of support in the first term of office may be the major contributing factor in the loss of female councillors to local government.”
Because I kept the Noosa community informed of my efforts and the knock-backs I was experiencing, the community rallied behind me.
By the time the next election rolled around, the community has vigorous in wanting to see more women on Council. Even though I decided not to run again, three women, including the new mayor, were elected. And the top unsuccessful runners-up were almost all women. Change had arrived.
In Canberra, the Jenkins review of parliamentary workplaces, initiated by the Federal government, showed just how badly women have been treated in our parliament. As a result, a public acknowledgement was made in parliament and a taskforce established. Whether all 28 recommendations will be addressed is yet to be seen.
And here in Noosa, by electing Mayor Clare Stewart and two other women councillors, the community rendered a significant breakthrough. It is hoped that this is more than just a cosmetic change and signals a permanent shift in the way this community is governed.
