The Social Media Post I Saw on 29 April 2022

I still remember the day.

Friday, 29 April 2022.

I was extremely exhausted.

For months I had been trying to obtain help regarding my workers compensation claim, the failure to implement the Injury Management Plan by my employer and insurer, the withholding of my statutory entitlements, and what were serious failures by both SafeWork NSW and SIRA.

I had taken those concerns to my local member, Chris Minns, and his Kogarah electorate office.

There had been indications that something was happening.

And then I saw the social media post.

Chris Minns had visited the University campus at Blacktown.

 

Chris Minns’ social media post, 29 April 2022, following his visit to ACU Blacktown during the NSW election campaign. The statement that workers deserve “a government that listens to their concerns and takes action” would later take on a very different meaning for me.

At first, I was pleased.

In fact, I emailed Chris Minns and Cheryl Han that same day and told them it was “a good idea and great opportunity to visit ACU.”

I genuinely believed it was positive.

The university offered courses in nursing, teaching, social work, paramedicine and allied health. Highlighting those professions during an election campaign was important.

Importantly, I thought the visit might also mean that somebody was finally paying attention to what had happened to me.

I wanted to believe that.

I needed to believe that.

At that point I was carrying a burden that had become unbearable.

I was frightened.

I was financially collapsing.

I was isolated.

I was trying to survive the consequences of raising concerns about workplace safety and then finding myself trapped in a workers compensation system that seemed determined to ignore its own obligations.

When I saw the post, I actually felt relief.

I wrote to the electorate office that seeing the photo had made me feel as though a burden had lifted.

For a brief moment, I felt hopeful.

Then I read the words.

One sentence in particular stayed with me.

Chris Minns wrote that workers deserved:

“A government that listens to their concerns and takes action.”

At the time, I wanted to believe that statement.

I wanted to believe somebody was finally listening.

I wanted to believe somebody was finally prepared to take action.

After all, I was his constituent.

I lived in his electorate.

I had repeatedly raised concerns regarding workplace safety, workers compensation, injury management, regulatory failures and the impact those failures were having on my life.

I had explained that I was struggling.

I had explained that my entitlements remained withheld.

I had explained that I was trying to save my home, protect my health and hold my family together while navigating a system that seemed increasingly hostile toward an injured worker.

I thought those concerns mattered.

I thought they would be heard.

But what followed was not listening.

What followed was silence.

And the action that ultimately affected my life was not action that protected me.

The employer had already failed to provide a safe work environment after I raised concerns.

The insurer had continued to withhold entitlements.

The insurer had failed to implement the Injury Management Plan.

The insurer had failed to provide effective case management.

The insurer had failed to ensure safeguards that should have existed under the scheme.

The insurer had failed to cooperate in ways that would have supported recovery and a safe return to work.

And now I found myself facing something else.

Not advocacy.

Not transparency.

Not communication.

Silence.

The result was that I increasingly felt abandoned not only by my employer and insurer, but also by the elected representative I had approached for help.

That is what made this period so frightening.

People often look at correspondence and government processes and forget there is a human being living through them.

At that time I was trying to manage overwhelming financial pressure.

I was trying to save my home.

I was trying to maintain my health.

I was trying to preserve relationships with my family.

I was trying to survive, and I was doing it largely alone.

The imbalance of power was extraordinary.

On one side stood:

• An employer.
• An insurer.
• Lawyers.
• Government agencies.
• Regulators.
• And increasingly what felt like political indifference.

On the other side stood one injured worker.

People often confuse vulnerability with weakness.

They are not the same thing.

I was vulnerable.

I was frightened.

I was exhausted.

But I was not weak.

If anything, the fact that I continued documenting events, writing letters, lodging complaints and demanding accountability despite everything that was happening proves the opposite.

What I didn’t  understand at the time was how significant that social media post would become.

It now stands as a reminder of the gap between public statements and private experiences.

A worker deserving a government that listens.

A constituent asking to be heard.

A promise of action.

And then silence.

The issue was never that Chris Minns visited ACU.

Politicians visit universities during election campaigns.

That is normal.

The issue was the timing.

The issue was that I had been led to believe advocacy and support were occurring regarding matters that directly affected my employment, health, entitlements and future.

The issue was what happened afterwards.

Nothing.

No update.

No explanation.

No clarity.

Just growing uncertainty.

As the days passed, my confidence in the Kogarah electorate office began to disappear.

My trust began to erode.

My instinct told me that something was wrong.

On 3 May 2022, after still hearing nothing, I wrote again.

I explained that a friend had contacted the office seeking an update regarding the Friday meeting with the university.

I explained how important that information was.

I explained that my mental health depended on knowing what was happening.

I explained that TAL, my mortgage broker and the conveyancer all needed answers.

I explained that I wanted healing with my family before Mother’s Day.

I was asking for communication.

I was asking for an update.

I was asking for honesty.

This was one of the first moments I began to feel unsafe communicating directly with my elected representative’s office.

Because of the uncertainty.

Because I no longer knew whether what I was being told privately matched what was actually happening.

By May 2022, I realised that the people and institutions I had trusted to help were not helping at all.

The employer had failed me.

The insurer had failed me.

The regulators had failed me.

And now I was beginning to fear that political representation was failing me too.

At the time, Chris Minns had not yet become Premier.

What happened after he entered government, and what that would mean for my attempts to seek accountability, is a story for later posts.

But by early May 2022, something fundamental had changed.

I began to question whether the office that was supposed to represent me was actually listening at all.

Source: contemporaneous record of events - Document 312.