Corinne Manning

Imprisoned in State Care? Life Inside Kew Cottages 1925–2008

Established in 1887, Kew Cottages was Australia's oldest and largest specialised institution for people with intellectual disability. Kew Cottages was originally designed as a place of benevolent care and education for children. However, its secluded location, adjacent to a 'Lunatic Asylum,' and its use of physical security measures resulted in its reputation as a place of incarceration. This viewpoint emerged through oral history testimony collected as part of the Kew Cottages History Project during 2005–08. Oral histories, which were recorded from people closely associated with Kew Cottages, reveal that despite the introduction of reforms in the mid–twentieth century to accord residents greater freedoms, poor living conditions, strict regimentation, violence, and abuse, all contributed to a prison-like environment within the institution.

Corinne:	What were your clothes like? What did you wear at the Cottages?
Ted:	Oh just ordinary clothes like prison clothes.¹

This comment was made by Ted Rowe, a former resident who lived in Australia's oldest specialised institution for people with intellectual disability, Kew Cottages,² in the 1920s and 30s. Ted's response was matter-of-fact, there were no dramatic overtones in his voice; he was simply conveying his impression of the style of clothes worn at the Cottages. Coming from an eighty-five-year-old man, this comment was startling, but a gem for any researcher exploring the ways in which institutionalisation can be normalised. When handed this photo of Ted taken on his admission to Kew, aged four, this statement became more shocking. Ted's smiling persona starkly contrasted with his striped grey jacket that did in fact resemble prison garb.

Although, at this time, uniforms were standard issue for most people who lived in institutions,³ Ted's 'prison' reference was powerful in reflecting life at Kew Cottages until the 1950s. In the post–World War II era, an ideological shift occurred in many western societies concerning the provision of state care for people with intellectual disability and those experiencing mental illness. As Charles Fox argued, until this time institutions, such as Kew, were looked upon by many people as a means of segregating those who were considered to be a threat to Australia's social fabric.⁴ As a consequence, those committed were often characterised in a similar fashion to prisoners—as 'dangerous' and volatile. In the 1940s and 50s, developments in psychiatry and psychology, particularly in Europe, resulted in the emergence of new philosophies which advocated that institutions should provide multidisciplinary care and encourage community engagement.⁵ Kew Cottages epitomised this ideal and improvements were made to the physical landscape and work practices. However, reforms were not immediately welcomed or successful at Kew. For decades life remained harsh, restrictive, and isolated.

Image 1: Edward (Ted) Rowe, 1925. (Courtesy of the Department of Human Services, Victoria.)

Year	Total
1887	57
1897	214
1907	292
1917	326
1927	410
1937	500
1947	459
1957	720
1967	946
1977	894
1987	748
1997	547
2007	11

Table 1: Kew Cottages population figures 1887–2007 (Statistics were compiled from annual reports and figures provided by Kew Residential Services.)

For many residents, the reality of life at Kew greatly differed from the progressive idealism associated with its establishment. When it opened in 1887, Kew Cottages was regarded as a world-leading facility as it offered both residential care and educational opportunities. Located on a secluded hillside, the site was approximately eight kilometres from Melbourne's city centre. The institution was constructed adjacent to the infamous Kew Lunatic Asylum. Although the two institutions were administratively connected until 1957, each operated according to a distinct ethos. The Asylum provided care for people experiencing mental illness, while the Cottages catered for people with intellectual disability. Another significant difference was that Kew Cottages was intended as a facility for children. However, from its opening, the Cottages also housed adults. Initially fifty-seven people were in residence, but constant demand for accommodation meant that by 1968, 948 residents lived onsite. Kew Cottages had grown to be Australia's largest institution for people with intellectual disability.

This oral history considers life at Kew Cottages dating from 1925–2008. Primary evidence draws upon over one hundred hours of recorded interviews and written accounts. These were obtained from over eighty people closely associated with Kew, including residents, staff, families and volunteers. The resident cohort included people who were still living at the institution as well as those who had been relocated into community housing through government deinstitutionalisation initiatives. Research methodology incorporates techniques which have been pioneered by academics in the field of oral history and inclusive intellectual disability research.⁶ People who contributed oral history were active agents in their history-making and provided new evidence about institutional life in the twentieth century. Testimony is supported by documentary sources including residents' case files,⁷ government reports, media coverage, letters, diaries, and other archival materials. The majority of recorded oral histories cover the era 1951–2008. Only one interviewee, Ted Rowe, was able to offer reminiscences from the 1920s–30s. Additional oral histories were sourced from a small project conducted by the Kew Cottages Historical Society in 1987. These bring to light conditions at Kew in the 1930s and 40s. Oral testimony has been foregrounded as it enables institutional voices to emerge through first-hand narratives. Personal recollections provide a rare insight into the machinations of an institutional world.

The physical environment

The physical landscape of Kew Cottages was a key contributing factor to its widely held reputation as a place of incarceration, rather than care and education. Its isolation from the general community and close proximity to the notorious Kew Asylum compounded peoples' misgivings about its purpose. However those who lived nearby, mostly Kew Cottages staff and their families, took full advantage of the institution's expansive and secluded location. The following story was shared by Philip Brady, the son of psychiatrist, Dr Wilfrid Brady, who worked in both the Cottages and Kew Mental Hospital (formerly Kew Lunatic Asylum) from the 1930s up until1967:

What we see here, we used to call when we were young 'Fairyland,' because for kids it was red mushrooms and toadstools, and heaps of wildflowers ... we were always coming down here on our bikes and playing cowboys and Indians ... this little area has a special place in my heart.⁸

The Brady family lived in a government owned home which ran adjacent to the Cottages. Philip's relationship with the facility and its inhabitants was one of privilege. He and his childhood friends were able to freely explore the grounds, creating imagined worlds and enjoying the parkland that enveloped both institutions–for Philip, it was an extraordinary place of wonderment and adventure. However, for most residents committed to state care at the Cottages the physical environment was oppressive.

Up until the 1970s, most residents lived within limited physical environments. In many respects, housing at the Cottages was reflective of panopticon-style institutions, such as prisons, hospitals, boarding schools, and reformatories. In his study of panopticonism, Michel Foucault outlined the basic ideals behind this form of accommodation which consisted of a central control mechanism, such as an office, where authorities constantly observed and manipulated the behaviour of residents.⁹ This style of housing was utilised at the Cottages in the form of large scale dormitories, particularly the 'H-wards' that were introduced during the late 1950s. In 1957, the chairman of Victoria's Mental Hygiene Authority, Dr Eric Cunningham Dax, toured Europe, America, and Fiji to learn about new trends in mental health care. On his return to Australia he sanctioned the construction of 'H-wards' at Kew Cottages. These were intended to provide efficient care and to solve the problem of overcrowding which plagued the institution. The name of the new wards was indicative of the physical layout which reflected the letter 'H.' The ward included a central staff control area which branched off into large dormitories. Cunningham Dax believed that this arrangement enabled staff to supervise their charges with relative ease.¹⁰ Given that staff shortages were a constant problem at Kew, it was critical that the building design supported efficient and effective work practices. The staff-to-resident ratio varied over time, but generally one staff member was responsible for up to 40 residents, during the day, and 80–100 residents at night.¹¹

The design of the institution and the surveillance of residents reinforced the common perception that residents required confinement and strict supervision. Prior to the 1960s, Kew Cottages was segregated with separate male and female divisions, except for the nursery and young children's wards. Physical demarcations were created through the construction of fences and residents were closely monitored by staff. Ward assistant, Ted Wilson, was forthright when discussing the vigilance of staff in regards to segregation in the 1940s and 50s, 'If a fellow went across—"Back!" If a girl went across—"Back!"'¹² Enforcement of this rule was echoed by Ted Rowe, who chuckled as he recalled, 'the gate was normally locked. See the girls yelled out, "Here, the gate's unlocked, come on up" so we went in and all the boys [were] running around starting to kiss the girls ... anyhow this warder saw it, "Get out of there", he said, "Get back on your own side of the fence!"'¹³ There were various reasons for segregation which ranged from practicalities in administrative processes to prohibiting sexual contact, not solely between residents, but also potentially staff and residents.¹⁴ During the period when Ted lived at Kew, the Victorian Parliament considered three Bills that included provisions to prohibit sexual contact between 'mental defectives' as a means of maintaining racial purity according to eugenic ideals. In his book Managing Madness, Milton Lewis argues that institutional segregation of the sexes to prevent reproduction was maintained until the post–World War II era.¹⁵ This was certainly the case at Kew Cottages. Even when segregation regulations were strictly enforced, there were times when male and female residents mixed. These were often social events or work details where staff vigilantly monitored personal interaction.

In order to control large numbers of people, confinement strategies were often implemented. It was not unusual for residents to spend their lives locked in wards, day rooms, and outside concreted airing courts. These areas were stark spaces with minimal furnishings and often no activities. In July 1953, Austra Kurzeme commenced work as a ward assistant. As she walked through the ward, Austra was saddened by the sight of her charges 'huddling in a heap on the floor, cold, half naked and half of them already smeared with faeces and the smell!'¹⁶ After breakfast, Austra discovered that a nurse had locked the residents in an outside airing court so that she could complete cleaning duties without interruption, 'I found them in the yard ... locked in like a big cage ... without a roof ... filthy—all incontinent ... no nappies, plenty of stink and flies, and the floor full of faeces!'¹⁷ Ted Wilson explained that in the 1940s and 50s, 'Whether it was rain or shine in those days they all went into the airing court.'¹⁸ By restricting residents' movement within defined and locked areas, staff were able to carry out duties without the additional burden of overseeing their charges. Although this was a practical management system, it served to create a sense of imprisonment for residents.

Image 2: Residents in an airing court 1951. (Courtesy of Kew Cottages Historical Society.)

Publications such as 'Madness' in Australia and 'Unfortunate Folk' have shown that institutions like Kew were not merely places of unmitigated social control.¹⁹ Although daily life tended to be governed by strict regimentation and surveillance, residents were able to exercise agency within this regime. The desire for a little freedom from the confines of the ward proved too tempting for some residents, even if such transgressions resulted in punishment. On one occasion Ted Rowe stopped a fellow resident from running away telling him of the consequences:

Ted:	A few tried to escape, I wasn't game to escape.
Corinne:	Why were they trying to escape, can you remember?
Ted:	Because they don't like the place, that's why ... One of them said to me one day, 'Oh gees I'd like to get away from here' and I said 'You won't get out because the doors are locked.' 'Oh that's bad ... I'll have to do something [about that].' I said 'The only way ... is don't come back in when they come to lock the door and [then] you're out there. You can do what you like. But they'll be after you ... [they'll] find out where you've gone and you'll cop it then, by gee you would.' ... [when they were caught] They do cop it. You could hear them yelling out, 'No, no, no!' They knew they were going get the strap on the backside.
Corinne:	So did that boy sneak out?
Ted:	He never sneaked out, no. He was too scared.²⁰

In 1956, when Patrick Reed went to live at Kew, he was locked indoors and in airing courts. He described feeling incredibly bored being shut away and tried to escape with others, 'Oh, it was boring ... Just walking around, the whole yard was full of kids ... that's why we nicked off.'²¹

Limited education and work opportunities

While some residents absconded in search of freedom, other residents, who were classified as 'educable' or 'workers,' were allowed to move around the institution and into the local neighbourhood. A small group of residents were deemed suitable for official forms of education similar to that offered in state schools, and/or general and industrial training. In 1887, the provision of schooling for residents was an innovative feature of Kew Cottages. During 1907–08 a typhoid epidemic swept across Kew Asylum and the Cottages. The schoolroom at the Cottages was requisitioned for use as an isolation ward, disrupting classes. While some informal teaching was resumed after the epidemic, formal schooling did not begin until the opening of an Education Department school at the Cottages in February 1929.²² The average rate of pupils who attended the school from the late 1920s was between 5–10 percent of the total population. A major exception to this trend was in the late 1930s when this figure reached approximately 20 percent. In 1937, the total population of Kew Cottages was 500. This figure fell to 276 in 1938, primarily through the transfer of 'more promising' residents to alternate state training facilities such as Janefield. Transfers impacted upon the percentage rate of residents attending education programs. This figure gradually reduced throughout the 1940s, when Kew accepted increasing numbers of residents. By 1950, 505 residents lived onsite. The number of students attending the school was on average fifty-five.²³ According to teacher, Kay McCulloch, from 1938–58 there were no female students.²⁴ This was due to the transfer to Janefield of many female residents who were suitable for education. Other female residents who had remained at the Cottages had the capacity to benefit from education, but were considered ineligible due to reasons such as age, level of disability, or institutional work commitments.²⁵ It would appear that the lives of female residents were further restricted than their male counterparts at Kew.

Education through work was recognised as a legitimate form of skills development while providing essential support for running Kew Cottages. This attitude was commonplace in many Australian institutions. As Christina Gillgren noted in her study of Claremont Hospital for the Insane in Western Australia, work formed part of the daily routine of generations of people with intellectual disability.²⁶ At Kew, residents were primarily deployed to work in the central laundry and kitchen. Resident labour was often utilised as a means of overcoming staff shortages and was vital to Kew's daily operation. Residents were not paid according to their labour, but on occasion received small gratuities or privileges from staff.²⁷ Although resident labour could be considered exploitative, many residents welcomed the opportunity to escape the wards. Resident, Lois Philmore, a domestic employed in the Brady household in the 1960s, recollected, 'I helped Dr Brady and Mrs Brady in Kew ... in the morning ... I did all the ironing, cleaning the bath, and the housework.'²⁸ Lois was also proud of being entrusted to leave the Cottages and go to the local shops. She recalled that matron Lucas 'let me go down the street on me own ... because she trusted me ... I'd do shopping for the people and staff.'²⁹ However, most onsite work environments tended to be restrictive and closely supervised by staff. At the end of the day residents returned to often overcrowded and dilapidated wards only to be confronted with excessive noise and hours of boredom.

Freedom to roam was enjoyed mostly by a small, elite group of 'high functioning' residents who attended school and work. This liberty was sometimes exploited by residents who relished the opportunity to explore beyond the boundaries of the institution. On occasion residents were uninvited guests, knocking on the front door of staff houses, or entering via backyard gates that opened onto institutional land. Astrid Judge, the daughter of psychiatrist Dr Cliff Judge, remembered being hesitant and sometimes afraid, particularly of one male resident, who sometimes came into her property:

We didn't like the young silent nonverbal man who would open the back gate of our house and walk straight into our kitchen, where mum would be preparing dinner and have to use some force and determination to get him away from us ... Occasionally, his head appeared at our bedroom window while we were dressing, which terrified us the most because this window was on the side of our house accessible from the street outside the Cottages, and this man was certainly not supposed to have been moving around outside the grounds of the institution.³⁰

Probably a lack of direct supervision from staff enabled the 'nonverbal man' to venture into the wider suburb of Kew. This man behaved in a manner that was familiar to him, as staff and others peered into the residents' world without their permission. This episode clearly highlighted that some residents exercised agency through circumventing institutional surveillance.

Glimmers of hope in reform movements

In the 1950s and 60s, a transformation took place in the provision of mental health services in Victoria. New forms of education and training were introduced at Kew in response to overseas and local influences. In 1953, Scottish psychiatrist Maxwell Jones published the influential Therapeutic Community which advocated a more multidisciplinary and inclusive approach to institutional care. ³¹ This approach was reflected in changes implemented by the newly appointed chair of the Victorian Mental Hygiene Authority, English psychiatrist, Eric Cunningham Dax. From 1952 specialist groups of health professionals were employed to cater for the education and training needs of residents including occupational, physio, speech, and music therapists. Social workers were also crucial in facilitating residents' access to classes within and outside of the institution. The 1950s saw a growth in life skills programs that eventually became an inherent part of life at Kew. These changes contributed to the institution feeling less like a prison and more akin to the original ideals of care and education.

Image 3: Kew resident at the onsite kindergarten, circa 1965. (Courtesy of Kew Cottages Historical Society.)

Although more residents took advantage of an increased number of therapy and kindergarten sessions, annual report figures indicate that up until the 1980s only 5–20 percent of residents attended these sessions.³² Institutional photos from the 1950s and 60s depict children happily playing, singing, and dancing. These photos reflect popular family images from this era—children building towers from a colourful assortment of wooden blocks, train tracks being carefully constructed and kids playing water games on a hot summer's day. Although most of these images represent children taking part in schooling and therapy sessions, many were shot for publicity purposes. By contrast, it is rare to find photographs taken inside the wards where annual reports frequently documented poor conditions.³³ For the majority of residents who were deemed by staff to be unsuitable for such programs, life remained mundane and restricted.

From the 1960s, residents were accorded greater freedoms at Kew adhering to the reforms introduced by Cunningham Dax. It took many years before staff and residents availed themselves of this newfound liberty and locks were continually utilised as a safety measure in certain circumstances until Kew's closure in 2008. According to staff member, Maria Kraushofer, the changes were not without incident as some residents were returned to the Cottages by police who falsely assumed they had 'escaped.'³⁴ This practice helped to reinforce the common perception that Kew was a custodial institution and its residents were somehow a 'menace' to society. Although some residents were able to take advantage of this freedom of movement, many others remained confined to the wards and airing courts psychologically locked into a routine they had experienced for decades. Staff member Kurt Kraushofer noted, 'Once we opened the doors, we had a couple of people expanding their environment, but basically they stayed there [in the ward].'³⁵ Perhaps the reluctance of some residents to move beyond the wards and airing courts was due to a fear of unfamiliar territory. Others were reliant upon staff to assist them as they were constrained by physical disabilities.³⁶ On occasion some residents took on this staff role and helped other residents navigate the grounds. Resident, Nick Konstantaras recalled assisting his friend David Honner to get to the onsite kiosk, 'I'd push him in the wheelchair I did.'³⁷

As Kew Cottages attempted to adhere to contemporary thinking towards intellectual disability, in the 1970s and 80s it operated according to the developmental model and normalisation principles. Swedish scholar Bengt Nirje and North American psychologist Wolf Wolfensberger were leading exponents of these principles. The developmental model advocated that people with intellectual disability had the potential to develop and learn; while normalisation purported making available, to people with intellectual disability, patterns and conditions of everyday life that resembled those found in mainstream society.³⁸ Funded by donations raised in the 1975 Minus Children Appeal, four training and education centres were established at the Cottages to enable residents to participate in programs that reflected these ideals. Programs were designed to improve independent living skills and provide stimulating activities outside of the living accommodations. The new centres attempted to cater for as many residents as possible. However these improvements were not sufficient to overcome the highly regimented and isolated nature of life at Kew.

Due to institutional changes implemented from the Minus Children Appeal, a greater number of residents attended programs, but understaffing resulted in demand often exceeding supply. Staff member Alma Adams recalled, 'not everybody had access ... because there weren't the resources, some people only got as little as two hours a week.'³⁹ Despite the limited nature of programs on offer, ward assistant John Wakefield witnessed improvements amongst residents in his ward within a matter of weeks: 'When people started to get dressed and go out of the ward every day, for at least two hours a day, all those macabre behaviours disappeared. Before that people were bored out of their mind and that was so marked.'⁴⁰ This improvement appeared to be proof of the way in which the physical environment controlled the behaviours and quality of life enjoyed by residents at the Cottages. Sadly many residents continued to spend most of their days shut away in their accommodations.

In the 1980s and 90s, disability rights and advocacy movements encouraged greater individualisation for residents and attempted to address issues of inequity. However, within a large institution such as Kew, overcrowding and oppressive institutional practices tended to obviate such reforms. From the 1980s, efforts were made to impart a sense of individual living within the institution by partitioning dormitories into smaller, shared living spaces and creating semi-independent living accommodations, such as the Avenue Hostel. The new facilities were welcomed by residents such as Ralph Dawson: 'We had privacy ... We had walls.'⁴¹ It was only in the 1990s that the majority of residents were able to live in this type of accommodation as previously places had been strictly limited to residents who were considered to be 'higher functioning.' Administration and services remained largely centralised. The greatest change brought about by reforms in disability policies and principles during this era was that the majority of residents were able to access work placements and/or programs. While some of these were located outside of the institution, many remained onsite. Resident, Clare Turner, who packed rubbish bags, brackets, and serviettes in the onsite workshop described her work as 'fun, fun, real fun.'⁴² Clare did not want to return to her ward at the end of a working day, 'Doing all this work and all the people you talked [to] ... I was so happy to get to work ... I don't feel like, feel like going home [to the ward]. I think when it's time to go home I said: "Oh no, do I have to go home?"'⁴³ Despite the wards being 'unlocked,' by the early-twenty-first century, everyday life for many residents remained predominantly within the narrow confines of the units, facilities, and grounds of Kew Cottages.

Substandard living conditions, poor diet, and abuse

Image 4: Toilet blocks at Kew, circa 1950s. (Courtesy of the Cliff Judge private collection.)

Living conditions experienced by residents at Kew were often harsh and degrading. For much of its history the institution was a place where efficient communal care overrode the fundamental human rights of its residents. In the 1930s and 40s, public monies were diverted into programs to help alleviate the effects of the Great Depression and to support World War II. As a result of these economic policies many public institutions fell into disrepair. In the late 1940s and early 1950s inadequate sanitary conditions at Kew resembled those found in areas designated as urban slums such as Collingwood and Fitzroy. In the 1950s the Victorian government introduced slum reclamation programs to modernise the city and improve the quality of life for people in the mainstream community. Cunningham Dax demanded similar government action for people housed in public mental health institutions.

On his first visit to Kew Cottages Cunningham Dax was appalled by the sanitation facilities, 'Kew Cottages is on the slope, and there's a drain from top to bottom, the children were emptying their bladders and I would have thought their bowels as well down this drain and it just flowed down, and the stench, the smell of the whole place was so awful.'⁴⁴ During his tour through the communal toilet blocks, he noted with disgust that excreta was not easily flushed out through the drainage system and sewerage emptied into nearby fields where cattle were feeding. When recounting details of a subsequent fire which burnt down one of the Kew toilet blocks his humane feelings for the residents were apparent, 'it was set on fire, I don't know who did it but it was a great thing. The story was that the Matron did it!'⁴⁵ This fire and reforms at Kew in the 1950s and 60s resulted in new, improved facilities being built. However, these were still shared spaces where privacy was not provided. It would take several decades before individual toilets were provided for the majority of Kew residents.

Similarly, conditions in the bathrooms were also challenging. Ted Rowe was not fond of the close supervision or showering en masse. He recalled that in the, 'big shower room ... eight goes in a time and they time you. They say "Righto, time to get out of the shower and dry yourself ... Go to your dormitory [and] ... get your clothes on."'⁴⁶ Patrick Reed shuddered when he spoke about showering at the Cottages in the 50s and 60s, 'they used to have old, real old showers ... and sometimes the water's cold, sometimes hot.'⁴⁷ Until the late–twentieth century, bathing and showering were mechanical, public activities where residents were literally herded through bathrooms like cattle. On his first day working at Kew in 1986, Michael Glenister was surprised by the public nature of personal care, 'at seven o'clock in the morning ... there are 30 [naked] fellas who want to have a shower ... [and] they're wandering around, up and down the hallway, in and out of the bathroom, and in the lounge-room ... it's just bizarre.'⁴⁸ A lack of personal space and attention persisted into recent years and was noted by a community visitor, 'it was reported to me by a student on placement here once that in one unit there were, I'll try and be conservative, say 28 ladies, that were all showered in 13 minutes in the morning.'⁴⁹

The running of a large institution such as Kew Cottages depended upon residents being cared for and directed in groups. This attitude extended into the personal appearance of residents who, up until the 1980s, were mostly dressed in Government Issue or cast-offs donated from a variety of organisations, including the Army and football clubs.⁵⁰ Nurse Julie Carpenter recalled that when she started at the Cottages in 1977, 'they were dressed in government clothing. The boys had grey shorts and anyone that might run away wore a red tee shirt so that you could see them as they dashed off down the paddock. I was quite shocked.'⁵¹ The uniformity of residents' appearance allowed Kew Cottages to be a controlled environment where staff were easily identifiable from residents. Julie's comment about boys absconding also revealed that the freedom ethos of the 1950s was not applicable to all residents. In his seminal work on asylums, Erving Goffman argued that the use of communal clothing was not only a practical consideration, as staff policing of an individual's personal belongings was not feasible, but also reflected ways in which institutions de-personalised residents.⁵² This attitude was noteworthy at Kew Cottages. In addition, collective clothing stores enabled essential services such as laundry to operate more efficiently and averted possible tensions between residents about ownership of clothing.

Image 5: Kew Residents dressed in donated football jumpers. Kew Cottages Workshop, 1970s. (Courtesy of Kew Cottages Historical Society.)

Residents had different outfits for day and night. Ted Rowe recalled that during the day he wore a calico shirt and moleskin trousers. At night time pyjamas were worn:

Ted:	They call them pyjamas.
Corinne:	What were they like?
Ted:	Boody awful! ... They were rough ... on your skin.⁵³

When asked if he received new clothes regularly, Ted replied, 'they got replaced when they had holes in them ... They sent them out and they might be able to repair them on the machine and bring them back to you but otherwise you get a new pair. But they wouldn't wear out, they were like sheet iron.'⁵⁴ Hard-wearing clothes were essential for the institution as it had limited resources to purchase these items. In general, frugality outweighed comfort. From the late 1970s individual dress was gradually introduced for all residents. This change helped to counter the sense of collective identity and lessened the appearance of institutionalised uniformity associated with many custodial facilities.

Due to budgetary restrictions, residents were often deprived of a nutritional diet. The majority of residents ate in large groups assembled in a central dining area or in the wards. Ted Rowe thought that the food 'Wasn't bad. Could have had better, but they don't give you much.'⁵⁵ At times the small serves were a blessing, particularly in regards to the morning porridge. Ted recalled that breakfast was, 'always porridge ... We always used to say "Oh you got this glue out again!"'⁵⁶ Up until the 1970s, lunch was the main meal of the day. Meat, mostly mince, and vegetables were the staple food items accompanied by dessert. If food was not eaten, it was often recycled for future meals causing gastro-intestinal problems such as chronic diarrhoea. In the evening, at 5 pm, refreshments such as soup and toast were provided, sometimes with the option of something sweet, such as fruit, when available. Morning and afternoon tea were not introduced until the end of the twentieth century. If residents were hungry outside designated mealtimes additional food was usually not on offer. However, from the 1960s, residents who had access to money were able to supplement their diet through purchases made at the onsite kiosk and/or local shops. Wendy Pennycuick stated:

Wendy:	I used to get paid ... every week, every Friday
Corinne:	And what would you buy with your money every Friday?
Wendy:	Lollies ... And drinks.
Corinne:	Where would you buy them from?
Wendy:	From the Kiosk.⁵⁷

For decades governments and doctors maintained that Kew Cottages provided specialised medical care, yet it failed to deliver even the basic standards of dietary health for many of its residents. Malnourishment was a constant issue and without a proper diet many residents suffered health problems. In 1959, paediatrician Dr David Pitt discovered widespread dental sepsis, nutritional anaemia, worm infestations, and a few cases of scurvy.⁵⁸ In response to the endemic health issues created by poor food service, a group of senior staff including David, secretary Des Nugent, caterer Harold Reid, and dentist Dr George Harris, formed a committee to upgrade the residents' diet. David argued that, 'Improving the diet was important. A lot of the children had anaemia from iron deficiency ... [and] were infested with intestinal worms.'⁵⁹ The committee decided to increase protein meals from two to three a day, provide more fruit and administer vitamin supplements to vulnerable residents.⁶⁰ David claimed that by implementing these changes, dental and general health slowly improved and worm infestations vanished. These alterations were significant in overcoming some of the health problems present at the institution, but others persisted. Julie Carpenter considered that even in the late 1970s the diet and provision of food at Kew was substandard; she recalled, 'Mealtimes used to be quite traumatic, for a lot of them, they were inadequately fed ... Some food was inedible. You'd get meat that was so tough you couldn't cut it.'⁶¹

In 1991, a public scandal erupted when the president of the Kew Cottages Parents' Association, Geoff Welchman, revealed that residents were going hungry because of funding cuts, 'At Kew Cottages they are spending $3.04 on each client on a daily basis ... I have been involved in servicing hostels for 12 years and the average is $5.50.'⁶² Geoff argued that many residents were losing weight, including his own son, as a result of the decrease in quality and quantity of food. Some residents were purchasing food in order to satisfy hunger. The Victorian Minister of Community Services, Kay Setches, responded swiftly to Geoff's allegations and additional funding was allocated to this area of care. By 1995, conditions had not improved greatly. In a letter to the editor of the Age newspaper, Kew parent, Rosalie Trower, was scathing of the Victorian Government claiming that the 'Daily food allowance at Kew Cottages is considerably less than daily food allowance for prisoners.'⁶³ It would appear that residents were continually penalised by institutional living.

The domineering attitude of some staff, in combination with the serving of inferior food, made mealtimes a time of endurance, rather than a pleasure, for many residents. At mealtimes staff supervision was ever-present and vigilant. Cunningham Dax was aware of the oppressive and tense atmosphere for residents in the dining hall. He noted 'when you went in at mealtimes they were sitting at the tables ... as you went past they put their hands over their ears because if they weren't eating their food they got a clip over the ear.'⁶⁴ Clare Turner confirmed that rough treatment prevailed in the 1960s and 70s. She recalled that on more than one occasion when she refused to eat her porridge the staff 'make me, slapped me ... across the face ... Because if you don't eat your porridge ... [they] slap you across the face.'⁶⁵ The use of aggressive control mechanisms was often justified as being essential to maintain order within the institution. However, Kew Cottages was not supposed to be a place of punishment for offenders, but a facility that offered specialised care for one of society's most disadvantaged groups of people.

Many parents who placed their children at Kew Cottages were under the impression that although physical living conditions were often Spartan, the institution itself was a safe and secure environment. In reality, Kew has a confronting history of violence and abuse which has involved staff, residents, visitors, and outsiders at varying times. As with many institutions, it was not a 'safe haven' for many residents, but rather a dog-eat-dog world where physical and psychological violence and abuse were ever-present. The struggle for superiority in the institutional hierarchy, desperate attempts for attention, constant boredom, and a lack of behavioural programs to manage challenging behaviours all contributed to the violent and abusive behaviours exerted by many staff and residents.

The often secretive nature of violence and abuse at the Cottages meant that such activities were rarely officially reported. There were efforts by some managers to implement a system of accountability for residents' injuries. For example in the 1970s Kew's superintendent, Gary McBrearty, established 'bruise and injury books' to record resident injuries and to undertake investigations that he considered to be necessary. These manuals were used elsewhere in institutional settings as a means of ensuring that attention was drawn to physical injury and its prevention, while also making staff accountable for the welfare of residents.⁶⁶ The books were placed in each ward at Kew and were regularly collected and inspected by the superintendent. Kew manager Jack Cotter noted that Gary was fastidious in reading these books.⁶⁷ He was obviously concerned with eliminating abusive behaviour at the Cottages. Despite these accountability measures, violence and abuse continued.

Although it is impossible to ascertain exact figures on the prevalence of violence and abuse, anecdotal evidence collected for this history, along with documented evidence from sources such as the Victorian government, Office of the Public Advocate, and the media, reveals that violence was inherent at Kew. Over seventy percent of oral history participants spoke about the problem of violence and abuse. Witness accounts were also given and substantiated against documents and testimony from alternate sources. The violence which permeated the Cottages was similar to that experienced by people within prisons. It was a manifestation of hierarchies of power which governed daily life.

The creation and common use of euphemistic terms such as 'Kew Salute,' 'Thump Therapy,' and 'Midnight Special' reflected the violent subculture that existed at Kew. Michael Glenister learnt about the 'Kew Salute' during his nursing course. He explained this term:

Residents who were scared ... when approached they cower and cover up and put their hands up, that was known around the place as a 'Kew salute' ... You would get that now, just by walking past certain people, whether they know you or not ... It's nothing to be proud of and it's not a good thing. You probably find a lot of people wouldn't want to speak about it, but I'll guarantee every single one of them would know what you're talking about when you say it.⁶⁸

Social Worker, Fran van Brummelen recognised this problem and recalled that 'A lot of abuse was covered up by nursing staff because you don't squeal on your peers.'⁶⁹ If a staff member was suspected of inappropriate behaviour, then those who worked closely with him/her preferred to address the situation and dole out reprimands. This was a typical form of institutional reaction and resulted in an inaccurate record of the level of violence being perpetrated at the Cottages. In addition, some staff considered violence to be a manifest part of institutional life. As Michael elaborated:

in a lot of respects institutions are brutal places. You can watch the movies on TV about prisoners and there's a top dog and then there's a hierarchy and all that sort of stuff. That's the same in any institution—and there's ... top dogs when it comes to the staff ... you'd be naïve to say that ... you never saw any staff being heavy-handed, that nothing like that ever went on.⁷⁰

As whistleblowers risked being ostracised by colleagues if they lodged official complaints, a culture of violence persisted.

Residents were also perpetrators of violence. A common form of resident violence was the 'Midnight Special.' In 2006 when I interviewed Ralph Dawson and Andrew Ledwidge in their community residential unit I asked what 'Midnight Special' meant. They replied:

Ralph:	a snoogle-snuckles in his head, (gesturing by raising a fist to his head).
Corinne:	What's a snoogle-snuckle?
Andrew:	Snoogles are 'Midnight Special.'
Corinne:	Why would somebody get a Midnight Special?
Ralph:	Annoy people.
Corinne:	And did you ever get one?
Ralph:	No, I'm clever, that's why isn't it Andy Ledwidge?
Andrew:	Yes.⁷¹

Over the weeks that followed our interview, whenever I tried to elicit information about who taught them about the 'Midnight Special,' Ralph and Andrew avoided the subject. This was a fascinating example of the extension of institutional silence into the community. I was allowed to know that the act had occurred, but not who the specific teachers or perpetrators were. The code of silence amongst staff had clearly extended to residents and mimicked the type of system which operated in other custodial institutions.

The violent and criminal behaviours of some residents were sometimes so severe that they were sent to alternate mental health and violent offenders' institutions. This was certainly the case in the 1940s, when a male resident attempted to drown another man at the Cottages. This offender was considered to be too dangerous for the Cottages and was sent to live in Kew Mental Hospital. Shortly after his transfer he killed a fellow resident.⁷² Young residents were also involved in violent episodes. Jack and Margaret Cotter recalled that in the 1970s when they worked at Kew, there was a nine year old boy who terrorised residents. He often absconded and perpetrated criminal offences. Jack and Margaret stated:

Jack:

I think he was a junior psychopath ... he was positively dangerous, yet he was angelic looking. I can remember the nursing staff saying the day they came to take him to ... Baltara. The people who came and took him were looking at the staff as much to say ... 'You mean lot, sending this dear little boy away' ... [he was] no sooner out there than ... [he] broke into every house in the whole area ...

Margaret:

... he was only about 12 when he went up to J Ward ... Then he was in Pentridge.⁷³

Residents who exhibited extreme violence were often dealt with through relocation or physical and chemical restraint. In later years behavioural management programs were also introduced. The captive nature of life at Kew meant that victims of violence and abuse were often at the mercy of other residents, staff, family or visitors to report and take action on their behalf. If a resident chose to report such incidents s/he ran the risk of reprisal from named perpetrators. In this respect, residents were undoubtedly imprisoned within the institution system.

The type of care offered at Kew Cottages was indicative of mental health institutions across many western societies. The location of the Cottages, in a secluded position adjacent to a 'Lunatic Asylum,' reflected contemporary attitudes concerning the need to segregate 'mental defectives' away from the mainstream community. Communal care and substandard living conditions contributed to Kew's reputation as a place of incarceration. Until the mid–twentieth century physical confinement was frequently used as a means of controlling the movement of residents and limiting their contact with the outside world. Clearly, some residents were able to exercise agency through challenging designated boundaries, while others were allocated special privileges because of their status as 'higher functioning.' Despite reforms which accorded residents greater freedom, many remained within the confines of the institution. Oral history from this era reveals that although residents were not imprisoned in a literal sense, they nonetheless felt restricted by institutional regulations and routines.

Victoria University

Notes

^1.� Edward (Ted) Rowe, interview with author, 20 April 2006. In order to provide a history where all interviewees are respectfully acknowledged and their testimony treated as equal, where possible, I have fully named most interviewees, including their title, on the initial reference and used their first, or commonly known name, thereafter. The surnames of residents have also been used with their consent.

^2.� People closely associated with the institution most commonly refer to it as 'Kew Cottages,' 'the Cottages' and simply 'Kew.' Consequently, these three names are used interchangeably.

^3.� See "Treatment and Care of Children in Institutions," in Forgotten Australians: A report on Australians Who Experienced Institutional or Out-of-home Care as Children, http://www.aph.gov.au/SENATE/COMMITTEE/clac_ctte/completed_inquiries/2004-07/inst_care/report/c04.htm (accessed 6 November 2008), 30 August 2004.

^4.� Charles Fox, "Debating Deinstitutionalisation," Health and History 5, no. 2 (2003): 38–9.

^5.� See Maxwell Jones, Therapeutic Community (New York: Basic Books, 1953).

^6.� See D.Atkinson, M.Jackson, and J.Walmsley, Forgotten Lives: Exploring the History of Learning Disability, (Kidderminster: BILD Publications, 1997); D.Atkinson et al, Good Times, Bad Times: Women with Learning Difficulties Telling their Stories (Kidderminster: BILD Publications, 2000); D.Atkinson et al, Witnesses to Change: Families, Learning Difficulties and History (Kidderminster: BILD Publications, 2005); P.Longmore and L.Umanski, The New Disability History: American Perspectives (New York: New York University Press, 2001); R.Perks and A.Thomson, The Oral History Reader (London: Routledge, 1998, 2006), M.Rapley, The Social Construction of Intellectual Disability (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004); J.Walmsley and K.Johnson, Inclusive Research with People with Learning Disabilities: Past, Present and Futures (London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2003).

^7.� Access was secured from the Department of Human Services, Victoria.

^8.� Philip Brady, interview with author, 9 November 2006.

^9.� Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (New York: Pantheon Books, 1977) 195–205.

^10.� Eric Cunningham Dax, "Report on 1957 Overseas visit by the Chairman of the Mental Hygiene Authority," February 1958, Kew Cottages History Project Archive, La Trobe University, 21–2; Eric Cunningham Dax, interview with author, 23 January 2006.

^11.� Corinne Manning, Bye-Bye Charlie: Stories from the Vanishing World of Kew Cottages (Sydney: UNSW Press, 2008) 185.

^12.� Ted Wilson, interview with Cliff Judge, Kew Cottages Historical Society, circa 1987.

^13.� Rowe, interview with author.

^14.� Rapley, 46–7; Cliff Judge and Fran van Brummelen, Kew Cottages: The World of Dolly Stainer (Melbourne: Spectrum Publications, 2002) 41–9.

^15.� Milton Lewis, Managing Madness: Psychiatry and Society in Australia 1788–1980 (Canberra: AGPS Press, 1988) 148–9.

^16.� Austra Kurzeme, "Written Recollection of Kew Cottages by Sister Kurzeme," unpublished manuscript, Kew Cottages Historical Society, circa 1987.

^17.�Ibid., 2.

^18.� Wilson, interview with Judge.

^19.� Catharine Coleborne and Dolly MacKinnon, eds., Madness in Australia: Histories, Heritage and the Asylum (St Lucia: University of Queensland Press, 2003); Barbara Brookes and Jane Thomson, eds., "Unfortunate Folk": Essays on Mental Treatment, 1863–1992 (Dunedin: University of Otago Press, 2001).

^20.� Rowe, interview with author.

^21.� Patrick Reed, interview with author, 3 August 2007.

^22.� Public Records Office of Victoria, VA 2840 Kew Hospital for the Insane, VPRS 7468 Inspector-General and Visitors' Books, Unit 1, Jamieson, 5 May 1909, np; Sprinthorpe, 26 May 1909, np; Jamieson, 18 August 1909, np; PROV VA 2852 Kew Cottages, VPRS 7420 Male Case Books, Unit 3, passim.

^23.� Department of Mental Hygiene, "Report of the Director of Mental Hygiene for the Year Ended 31st December 1950," Victorian Parliamentary Papers (hereafter VPP) (1951), 6.

^24.� Kay McCulloch, "Kew Special School—100 years of caring," VTU Journal, 10 December (1987): 10.

^25.� Judge and van Brummelen, 82–7.

^26.� Christina Gillgren, "'Once a Defective, Always a Defective': Public Sector Residential Care 1900–1965," in Under Blue Skies: The Social Construction of Intellectual Disability in Western Australia, edited by Errol Cocks et al. (Perth: Centre for Disability Research and Development, Faculty of Health and Human Sciences, Edith Cowan University, 1996), 62–3.

^27.� Manning, 156–7.

^28.� Lois Philmore, interview with author, Melbourne, 25 January 2007.

^29.�Ibid.

^30.� Astrid Judge, "Reflections, Memories and Sources: Growing Up at Kew Cottages," Health and History 9, no. 1 (2007), par 23, http://www.historycooperative.org/journals/hah/9.1/judge.html (accessed 6 November 2008).

^31.� Jones; Judge and van Brummelen, 166.

^32.� Manning, 145–8.

^33.� See reference to wards 13A, 14A and16A in "Report of the Mental Health Authority for the Period 1^st January, 1964 to 31^st December, 1965," VPP (1967), 902.

^34.� Kurt and Maria Kraushofer, interview with author, Melbourne, 28 March 2006.

^35.�Ibid.

^36.� Exact figures on the number and complexities of residents with physical disabilities cannot be ascertained as a large number of records, particularly those relating to female residents after 1920, were unable to be located by the Department of Human Services, Victoria.

^37.� Nick Konstantaras, interview with author, Melbourne, 15 June 2006.

^38.� Bengt Nirje, "The Normalization Principle and its Human Management Implications," in Changing Patterns in Residential Services for the Mentally Retarded, edited by R. Kugel and W. Wolfensberger (Washington: President's Committee on Mental Retardation, 1969), 181; W.Wolfensberger, Normalization: The Principle of Normalization in Human Services (Toronto: National Institute on Mental Retardation, 1972).

^39.� Alma Adams, interview with author, Melbourne, 14 August 2006.

^40.� John Wakefield, interview with author, Melbourne, 15 March 2006.

^41.� Ralph Dawson, interview with author, Melbourne, 6 August 2007.

^42.� Clare Turner, interview with author, Melbourne, 5 August 2005.

^43.�Ibid.

^44.� Eric Cunningham Dax, interview with author, Melbourne, 9 January 2006.

^45.�Ibid.; Eric Cunningham Dax, Asylum to Community: The Development of the Mental Hygiene Service in Victoria, Australia (Melbourne, F.W.Cheshire, 1961), 125.

^46.� Rowe, interview with author.

^47.� Patrick Reed, interview with author, Melbourne, 21 March 2006.

^48.� Michael Glenister, interview with author, Melbourne, 15 November 2005.

^49.� Focus Group, led by Corinne Manning, with Community Visitors, Kew Residential Services, 20 June 2006.

^50.� Dax, Asylum to Community, 124–5.

^51.� Julie Carpenter, interview with author, Melbourne, 24 January 2006.

^52.� Erving Goffman, Asylums: Essays on the Social Situation of Mental Patients and Other Inmates (New York: Anchor Books, 1961), 19–20.

^53.� Rowe, interview with author.

^54.�Ibid.

^55.�Ibid.

^56.�Ibid.

^57.� Wendy Pennycuick, interview with author, Melbourne, 4 August 2007.

^58.� David Pitt, interview with author, Melbourne, 19 September 2005; David Pitt, For the Love of the Children: My Life and Medical Career (Melbourne: Pitt Publishing, 1999), 160.

^59.� Pitt, interview with author.

^60.� Pitt, For the Love of the Children, 161.

^61.� Carpenter, interview with author.

^62.� "Pledge to Rectify Food Situation at Cottages," Progress Press, 27 March 1991, 3; Rosalie Trower, "Kew Daily Food Allowance Less than for Prison," Letter to the Editor, Age, 20 April 1995.

^63.� Trower.

^64.� Dax, interview with author, Melbourne, 9 January 2006.

^65.� Turner, interview with author.

^66.� These were similar to the Medical Journals which were established under section 21 of the Lunacy Statute 1867 in Victoria.

^67.� John (Jack) and Margaret Cotter, interview with author, Melbourne, 6 March 2006.

^68.� Glenister, interview with author.

^69.� Fran van Brummelen, interview with author, Melbourne, 30 August 2005.

^70.� Glenister, interview with author,.

^71.� Ralph Dawson, interview with author, also present Andrew Ledwidge, Melbourne, 3 August 2006.

^72.� Wilson, interview with author.

^73.� Cotters, interview with author.

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