Seeking shelter

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There are so many reasons why women ring the doorbell at Lou’s Place, but whatever their needs, all of them will be met with a friendly face, and a smile to welcome them inside.

Walking down Victoria Street in Sydney’s Potts Point on a sunny afternoon, you could almost miss the tiny white terrace house with the ‘Lou’s Place’ sign above the door. That is until you notice the stream of women who swing open the gate and press the doorbell, looking for anything from a chat, a shower and lunch, to help with drug and alcohol issues, or medical assistance for health problems.

Lou’s is the only drop-in day centre in Sydney’s inner city, and since it opened in late 1999, its front door has swung open in welcome more than 28,000 times. Today, the door is opened by Lynette Stankovich, the manager, and I follow her into the office, where she is typing up incident reports from the past few days.

Lou’s Place is like no other welfare service in Australia. The three Mission Australia staff who run it are so often described as angels that you can almost see halos hovering above their heads, while the amazing volunteers give the place its heart and the women who visit are such beautifully complex characters that the house never feels empty.

The day I visit is a Wednesday and Kim (for privacy reasons, surnames can’t be given), a welfare worker who has been on staff for the past 18 months, tells me Wednesdays are always busy because both the sewing and art classes are on, and a doctor is upstairs holding a morning clinic. “The classes and services we offer here give the women a focus. We know that about seventy per cent of our clients are homeless, so we need to engage them during the day because if they aren’t here then they are potentially getting up to all kinds of no good!” she smiles, as a middle-aged woman wanders in to use the phone to call Centrelink, and the doorbell rings yet again. 

The breadth of services Lou’s offers is particularly impressive when you realise they do so with no financial assistance from the government. “Lou’s Place tries to meet the women at all levels; we try to find where they are at and support them in whatever way they need,” says Nikki, another full-time welfare worker who has been with Lou’s for the past three years. Some of the women who visit the centre have been doing so since Nikki started, and she says that only now are some of them able to open up and trust her with their stories.

You soon realise that every woman who comes here has a story to tell, and often their stories are heartbreaking. Some have suffered horrific abuse, while others have fallen on hard times and just can’t get through it by themselves. All have fallen through the cracks of society but when they walk into Lou’s they are shown respect, and their situation is subject to no judgment. “I have been homeless for a couple of years after getting out of a bad relationship, but I also have some health issues which I am trying to get control of before I can get into housing,” says a young woman named Gina*, who is here for a shower and to check out the clothes room. Gina’s situation is typical of the cycle so many of Lou’s clients find themselves in. Some of Gina’s problems are mental health issues and increasingly women who suffer from illnesses such as schizophrenia, borderline personality disorder and depression are being shunted from one overwhelmed service to another, as resources are stretched to breaking point and beyond. This cycle means that for these women to actually change their lives is a monumental task, because breaking out of poverty or sex work, or leaving an abusive partner, requires so much support that when Lou’s closes its doors at 4pm the women rarely have a choice but to go back to their existing circumstances for another night.

“A lot of these women will never move beyond this cycle, and so you realise it is more about increasing the quality of that cycle for them – enriching their lives as they are, while also giving them every support to hopefully move on,” reflects Kim, when asked if she ever feels the problems are too big. There are about 50 volunteers who regularly give their time to the centre, and understandably they are integral to the centre’s success – without them, there would be no Lou’s. “The volunteers live and breathe this place,” says Lynette, as we find a rare moment of quiet to have a chat. “They come in here on their own time and do whatever needs doing.”

Mary, who takes the sewing classes, says she started volunteering at Lou’s because she wanted to give something back to the community, and has found her own life has been enriched by the experience. “Some of these women are amazing sewers... It is so satisfying to see them come in, maybe angry or upset from whatever has happened outside, then sit here and focus on something so that when they leave they are in a totally different mood, because they have finished a project and they own it.”

Mary says every day at Lou’s Place brings something different. “Sewing is really just an excuse for a chat... Most importantly, I listen to whatever it is they have to say – some of them have the most incredible views, and a great sense of humour,” she reflects.

Being there to listen is one of the core roles Lou’s plays in the lives of those who visit, with volunteers giving women the time and security they need to open up. “Around eighty-five per cent of our visitors are repeats, which is so important for us,” says Susie Manfred, one of the centre’s founders. “These women have a very hard time with trust, so it is important that each time they come back we build a little on our relationship with them, so we can move beyond addressing only their immediate needs.”

Today, visitors include a sex worker who was beaten up last night and doesn’t want to go to the police, a young girl who is seeing the doctor about the local methadone program, and an older woman who has just come out of hospital, after being picked up on the street suffering from malnutrition. The doorbell has rung about a hundred times in between; some women have come in but others have had to be turned away because the house is full. “The fact that we are turning away so many means we know we are doing something right, but you do worry about what happens to them out there,” says Lynette.

The women of Lou’s Place have stories that are at once sad, inspirational, heartbreaking and full of humour. They are part of a small community that is well and truly at the bottom of the pile, but with the help of the centre’s volunteers and staff, they do see a better future.

As I leave, Lynette tells me there is a client, Lilli*, who has told Lynette that the most comforting things in her life right now are the hum of the washing machine, the smells in the kitchen and the sound of the shower – the sounds and smells of Lou’s Place. It may not sound like much, but Lou’s is a much-needed refuge for women like Lilli, and despite the madness there are always moments of hope.

* Names changed on request

Words: Elizabeth Ross. Photography: Sam McAdam.