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Survivors of The Good Shepherd Laundry Auckland (NZ), is a place of healing for survivors; as well as a place of awareness for others. This is expressed through my art and stories.
To be incarcerated in one of the Catholic laundries is a horror that happened to vulnerable young girls, as the church and state worked together, taking advantage of them to create income, under the shields of law, secrecy and religion.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
In 1964, I ran away from home because a close family member raped me. I was rebellious, defiant and angry. I was only fourteen years old when I was picked up by the police and went to court, where they legally declared I was, “not under proper supervision.’’ I was made a State Ward and put in a girl’s home, where I was put into a cell underneath the house for weeks, until I went before the judge in the Children’s Court. My life was not my own from that moment on, as others determined my future and transported me to The Good Shepherd Girls Home for ‘retraining.’
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Image
Once I stepped through the doors of The Good Shepherd Convent, the process of dehumanisation began. I was handed a uniform, shoes, socks and underwear and then led to the ablution block, where I was forced to remove all my clothing and hand over my clothes and personal identity.
Whilst they read the rules to me, they cut my hair crudely as they robbed me of my individual identity and dignity.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
I was led into another cubicle, where a bath had already been prepared and told to put my ‘new’ clothes on the table and told to get into the bath. I felt ashamed as I stepped into the bath, whilst being watched by the nuns. There was no soap available; however, a nun arrived carrying a tin of DDT disinfectant and poured it into the bath, as she did, she berated me for my shameful, rebellious behaviour. She told me I was there because of the shame I brought to my mother; and likewise, to the Catholic Church. That I should consider myself privileged to be given the opportunity to do penance and be redeemed.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
Next, I was shown to my bedroom and told I was forbidden to talk to the other girls and warned not to address them for any reason; or indeed, there will be consequences. I was too scared to talk.I was awakened (at dawn) by a nun walking through, ringing a bell, and immediately sent to the showers and dressed in my new, disgusting, uniform.Without being able to speak, I just followed what the other girls did.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Dorm
I followed the other girls to the chapel, where we faked contrition, as we stood in front of the ‘Stations of the Cross.’ This was to show us (the Penitents) that our sufferings were nothing compared to the suffering of Christ.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
After chapel, we were herded into the dining room and one by one, walked up to the servers to receive our breakfast, then more prayers before we were allowed to eat. All this was done in unbearable silence. Hard to do when you are an extrovert.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
Immediately after breakfast, we were marched single file to the laundry and waited outside until ‘Sister’ came to unlock the door. All this was done in silence.
I was angry, scared, confused and overwhelmed without being permitted to ask questions. I was pushed toward a concrete tub and shown what my role was to be in this inhumane institution.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
‘Sister’ gave me a washboard and soap. I was shown how to scrub Auckland’s dirty laundry, one at a time.
This tedious, repetitive labour went on moment by moment, hour after hour, for nine hours a day, with a timed, thirty minute lunch break in the middle of the day. All done in complete silence.
The only thing that kept me from going insane were my thoughts. In fact, most of my thoughts were concentrated on how to escape this nightmare; and indeed, I would meticulously look for and plan ways to escape.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
My Mum and sister were permitted to visit me only three times during my incarceration. These visits were monitored and controlled. The furniture was arranged in such a way, that there was no opportunity to whisper, or pass notes and conversation was only possible when voices were raised.
Should mistakes, or complaints be made, I was severely dealt with later.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
In total, I made thirty four attempts to escape and succeeded a majority of the time but because State and Church worked together, my escape attempts only lasted 24hrs of freedom, at a maximum. It goes without saying, that when I was returned, I was subjected to harsh ‘discipline.’
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Image
Eventually, I realised that whilst I had the ability to run away, it was impossible to sustain my freedom because the community, law and church worked together to keep the ‘bad girls’ on the inside of the fence.
Instead, I wrote letters to my Mum, my Social Worker and Mrs Coursey (Birthright Social Worker). However, they never received my letters because they were monitored and interfered with, by the nuns.
One of my letters, eventually got to my Social Worker, a month after I wrote it. I begged her to come and see me. Instead, she wrote me a response, apologising for the delay and dismissed it by saying, “I hope this has sorted itself out.”
There was no follow-up.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Image
When I received the letter back from the Social Worker, I realised I would never get rescued, or heard, and I started passing notes to the other girls. We arranged a sit down strike because we knew the nuns were bullies and they attacked us individually but they would not do it if we all stood together. Someone would have to take notice. On our way to our bedrooms, after dinner, we sat on the stairs and refused to move.
Sister Carmel, stared me out, knowing I was behind this.
After a few hours, we were starting to want to go to the bathroom, so we negotiated and the nuns allowed to go to the bathroom one at a time.
That was, until it was my turn. She wouldn’t let me out of the bathroom, grabbed me and marched me to her office. I was disciplined and sent to bed.
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Image
The next morning, after breakfast, I was summoned to the office, again.
I was given my old clothes and told to get changed.
She told me I was “a bad apple” and that bad apples destroy the whole bunch. She put coins in my hand and sent me out the front door saying, “You will never be any good, no one will ever love you and you are not worth redemption.”
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Image
Magdalene Laundry (NZ): Text
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