by Christine Rau

On almost their first night after moving to Western Sydney’ s Bidwill, Pastor Jon Owen and his young family saw for themselves how an area can hold both hope and despair.

It was 2006,“ Sirens, everyone’ s out and about at night; police were arresting a lady,” Owen recalled.

“ Over our back fence you could see over a whole bunch of townhouses that had a short alleyway going toward bushland. A mum was being arrested and a kid of seven or eight was jumping the fence. And all the neighbours were helping this kid, eventually they got him to a house, slammed the door shut and hid him.“ The police are saying:‘ Where’ s the kid; where’ s the kid?’”

After the police had left, neighbours told Owen,“ This community cares for each other. She’ ll be released tomorrow after sobering up in a jail cell overnight.”

“ That kid would have been put into the foster care system, they could have lost him. Whereas tomorrow everything’ s going to be fine and forgotten. He went to his best mate’ s house, and he’ s slept over there a thousand times; he’ s as sound as a pound, and we will calm him down. Because we know him and we love him, and we love her.”

It’ s clear from the retelling where Owen’ s sympathies lie,“ You think about it- as a member of a neighbourhood- what a great community.”

“ And what do the cops think?‘ What a bunch of criminals; aiding and abetting each other’.”

Owen believes it’ s unfair to single out areas like Bidwill, Mount Druitt, Blackett and Shalvey as bywords for growing crime and dysfunction.

The latest NSW Bureau of Crime Statistics figures show, on the contrary, most crimes in the Blacktown area have remained stable, despite a growing

population. Thefts are down an average of 15 %, break and enters down 23 %. The one grim rise, however, is domestic violence, up 11 %. BOSCAR says much of this is due to increased reporting rather than an actual rise.

Owen, his wife Lisa, and their two young daughters didn’ t buy into the misconceptions when they started their decade-long stint around Bidwill.

The realities of intergenerational poverty, inadequate housing, high unemployment and youth disillusionment in pockets of Sydney’ s West are complex. But he is impressed by the solidarity, resilience and sheer persistence of so many residents to turn this around.

These days, Owen is the Pastor and CEO at Kings Cross’ Wayside Chapel, but it was the years in Bidwill which forged his understanding of the city. He and Lisa were both members of a Melbourne nongovernment agency, Urban Neighbours of Hope.

There, they started their lifelong work with the homeless, domestic violence survivors, kids out of foster care, addicts and former prisoners and wanted to bring an offshoot of Neighbours to Sydney.

By 2016 they’ d moved to a house in Chestnut St, Bidwill. It had three rooms for them, two spare bedrooms, a granny flat and a caravan for those who needed temporary refuge, and“ a huge lounge room” opening up to a back yard.

One day, a local youth crashed into their fence. His father was so grateful they didn’ t press charges; he not only repaired the fence but threw in a decommissioned Macca’ s play-equipment set for the“ hordes of kids” welcomed at the house. Completing the picture was a communal kitchen.

“ I don’ t regret for one moment raising our kids there,” Owen says.

“ We felt so safe. People looked out for each other. If it ever got too heated at our

place, you were never alone.“

“ Men knew that if they were having conflict with their partner; that if their partner was here, they weren’ t to enter the premises. Even to the point where they’ d come up to the fence and they’ d sometimes yell, but they never came in.”

“ There was very little random violence in that neighbourhood. I’ m not saying it excuses it, but in every altercation, there was context.”

Some local area police commanders couldn’ t understand this context, Owen says. Pastor Jon Owen

“ If you’ re involved in youth and community work in the Mr Druitt area, you pretty quickly begin to interact with the police in positive and negative ways.”

Inexperienced police recruits didn’ t help.

“ Often you’ d find kids from sedentary kinds of suburbs where they’ d grown up with implied notions of‘ us and them’”, Owen said.

“ In their first or second placement they’ re thrust into these local area commands- never having been inside a messy house or a house with pets in it, let alone conflict. Culture shock but also fed on a narrative that doesn’ t seem to be challenged at all by local commanders who say,‘ oh yeah, you’ re in a rough place now’.

“ They’ re not only afraid, they’ ve not only got some preconceived biases, but the differences are played upon,” Owen says.

Everything is“ hinged on the individual commanders who did get it right.”

One day police even rescued their abducted sheep, Bennie the Barba, who’ d been recruited to tame bindies in the back lawn and was deposited home in a divvy wagon.

Next month: Overcoming stigma through education. Ideas to lessen the housing crisis.