Victorian governor Linda Dessau remains positive and optimistic after a ‘bloody difficult’ 2020
Victorian governor Linda Dessau understands 2020 has been a tough year for all, but remains optimistic and hopeful for the months ahead.
Lifestyle
Don't miss out on the headlines from Lifestyle. Followed categories will be added to My News.
It’s the first day of Melbourne’s reawakening and Governor Linda Dessau is marvelling at the sunlight.
An optimist of nature, she trusts that the worst of the pandemic has, finally, passed.
She sits in the shade behind Government House, where daisies dance and hints of mint and rosemary waft from a working garden.
Beyond the iron gates, at beaches, cafes and shopping centres, Melburnians are exploring simple pleasures long denied.
Without doubt, she says, it has been a “bloody difficult year”.
The marginalised slipped further. So many jobs lost. Women and children have suffered in pressure cookers of private violence and control.
But there have been bright spots.
COVID-19 has offered a chance to reboot, to apply the insight and understanding that can only grow in adversity.
She quotes from that great philosopher, Homer Simpson. Victoria has been presented with a “crisitunity”.
“I’m still processing that our whole world changed earlier this year and I’m processing the fact that none of us has ever lived the way we have just lived,” Dessau says.
“It just feels as though we are coming into the light. And the feeling that we have stopped the virus at this stage, because it’s a slippery little thing, we’ve got this virus to a point where it’s really not pervasive at all. It’s not in the community. What a wonderful feeling of accomplishment.”
Appointed in 2015, the first female governor of Victoria sought to bridge gaps between her office and the people. Armed with endless curiosity, wise in the ways of the judicial bench, she wanted to reach out, especially to the young and vulnerable.
Yet this year Dessau has been inaccessible, at least in traditional senses. She has been deprived of her preferred parts of the job, such as meeting people. She missed going to the footy, and her beloved Bombers, but feels grateful that sport continued to provide a wonderful distraction during troubled times. The arts, too, found a way, she points out, alluding to an online exhibition by the National Gallery of Victoria which depicted mask-related exhibits.
What stood out in crisis, she argues, was not blame and bickering. Dessau speaks of unprecedented collaboration between the private and public sector, and co-operation between institutions, such as universities, that usually compete.
She was particularly taken by the story of the Shepparton business, which made face masks with an old machine. The Federal Government asked them to ramp up production but the company couldn’t produce enough masks for the surge of demand. The Australian Defence Force took a 3D image of the machine to an Echuca company that made machines for food packaging, staff were trained and production rose. Such co-operation wouldn’t, and couldn’t, happen in ordinary times.
People and businesses found alternatives. As she did, too: virtual openings of conferences, virtual round tables, virtual award ceremonies.
Aspects of the innovative measures will remain. Dessau speaks of a schools program which flourished online. It’s not as good as being there, she says, but being on a screen can spread the message further than five or six-hour trips to far-flung parts of the state.
Her year began with visits to razed parts of East Gippsland. She’s mindful that the bushfire recovery was swiftly subsumed by a broader threat. “I think it’s really important not to forget how 2020 started. Because for the communities directly affected by bushfires, to go from not only that heartache but that disruption straight into the heartache and disruption of COVID, it’s unimaginable,” she says.
“I was visiting bushfire-affected areas before COVID started and the communities were exhausted. Absolutely exhausted. And we all know how exhausting we’ve found COVID, both physically and mentally, so that double exhaustion must be so difficult to bear.”
Dessau felt the odd reality of COVID-19 on Anzac Day, in the predawn sanctuary of the Shrine. Usually, the site is packed in silent commemoration but Dessau stood alone.
People instead stood in their driveways; buglers played in suburban streets.
Being denied the usual customs helped to amplify the day’s significance. As Dessau says: “Tradition is stronger than what happens in one given year.”
During lockdown, she focused on the vulnerable; children and their mental health, the isolated who did not know where the next meal would come from. Charities, big and small, stepped up to cook and provide.
Dessau says what emerged was the often overlooked power of “kindness”. Neighbours helped neighbours, community groups organised care packages. Even the simple gesture of a teddy bear in the front window brought cheer. “I think kindness is underestimated,” she says. “It’s treated like some soft thing that you put off to the side. It’s actually a fundamental to any of our achievements because if we’re kind, then we work together, we listen to each other, we share ideas, we make sure we are all strengthened, it’s something that will bring about the peace and prosperity that is our state motto.”
She identifies unexpected advantages of a lockdown year. People were less busy. They considered the hardships of others in ways they normally may not.
“In one way I don’t think we have forgotten people,” she says. “I think it’s incredibly easy when things are going well and we’re busy,” she says. “We don’t think about the people who are doing it tougher than us. I think this has been a time, and it’s been thanks to journalists and others, where we have actually paused and reflected on how difficult it is for so many people in our communities even in good times.”
A former Family Court judge and coroner, Dessau has witnessed some of the worst in human nature. She is no Pollyanna, and recognises that lockdown imposed unnatural restrictions on family dynamics.
“Many of us know how hard this time has been in optimal family circumstances, lockdown with people you love and adore, together 24/7,” she says. “How difficult must it be when you’re in a precarious environment that might be either directly violent or it might be controlling? It’s a terrifying way to live.”
She recalls domestic violence being identified as an issue in the 1970s, when she was a young lawyer. The big misconception then was the question of why women stayed in abusive relationships if they were so bad.
She attributes a greater understanding of the complexities to two big drivers. A royal commission into family violence “moved the dial” for support and understanding.
Then, there was Rosie Batty.
“She has turned a tremendous personal tragedy into something that has helped so many people,” Dessau says.
“She could have just completely withdrawn from the world after she lost her son in such tragic circumstances. Instead she turned it into an opportunity to talk about the issues, to talk about how terrible it is. She’s a wonderful person and she’s very articulate.”
Addressing domestic violence is a work in progress, as so many social issues are.
But Dessau is hopeful. She was heartened by police efforts during lockdown.
Officers doorknocked homes known to be fragile situations, to maintain face-to-face contact. Public places were designated for people who needed help. The measures showed how far violence issues still need to go. Yet people no longer blame the victim. They collectively rail against perpetrators who fracture the families they are supposed to protect.
In accepting a three-year extension in the role, until 2023, Dessau hopes to expose more Victorians to her role. She is a steward of democracy, the Queen’s representative as the head of Victoria’s constitutional monarchy, though she often disappoints children when they ask how many governments she has dismissed.
In coming weeks, she will accept two critical findings: the Coate Inquiry into hotel quarantine, and the final recommendations of the Lawyer X royal commission.
One suspects she might privately have much to say about planned legislation that would have served to muzzle the victims (and their families) of sexual violence or murder.
She embraces debates about unintended consequences. If the system is “clumsy”, as it’s put to her, it’s also thorough. “If you want simple you can have simple,” she says. “But you won’t have all of the protections.”
Dessau likes giving unifying speeches, such as the 10-year anniversary of Black Saturday and commemorations for the 2017 Bourke St tragedy. Diversity remains important: she falls into the large category of Victorians who were either born overseas or have a parent born elsewhere.
Making her home accessible remains high on the list. Refugee and migrant women, from Syria to the Solomon Islands, ordinarily tend to the garden where she sits. The vegie and flower patches are sites of togetherness, friendship and sometimes dancing.
This week, she was catching up on presenting the honours list awards that had gone unreceived through the year.
She recalls hosting a reception for 800 on the International Day against homophobia and related prejudices.
Many of the guests may not have thought they would be welcomed at Government House. Some brought their mums: for the first time, in some cases, they were being celebrated for being gay by their loved ones.
“That’s what I mean by being a governor for our times,” Dessau says.
“Previous governors would have done things right for their times. I’m doing what’s right, as I see it, for my time.”
MORE NEWS:
ZERO NEW COVID-19 CASES RECORDED
300 SOLDIERS COULD LOSE MEDALS
The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show is back – but what exactly has changed?
The redemption runway we’ll all be watching
Is Goonellabah the luckiest place in Australia?
Goonellabah in northern NSW is not top of mind for most Australians – in fact most would never have heard of it.But this little known suburb of Lismore is the luckiest place in the country when it comes to one US lottery.