I recently discovered Ted Lasso (thanks to my young housemate). Yes, I know, I’m a bit late to the party. In one episode, Lasso describes how being criticised in his youth led him to make a powerful decision: he would choose curiosity over judgment.

Curiosity! What a beautiful concept.

As our Families Worker Jac often reminds us, curiosity helps us truly see others – and perhaps more importantly, it makes us want to see them. In today’s divided world, could a posture of curiosity open doors to healing and connection?

For nearly two decades, I’ve had the privilege of living with and supporting our community’s most vulnerable young people – those experiencing homelessness due to factors such as family violence, generational poverty, and overcrowding. This work happens on a 2½-acre former army barracks in the coastal haven of Mt Martha. What makes this place special isn’t just the location, but the team – deeply committed, highly skilled, and utterly fearless individuals who bring their whole hearts to this work. Those who thrive in this environment embrace curiosity and respond with empathy, even when – or perhaps especially when – maintaining necessary boundaries. They accept the inherent instability that accompanies homelessness and the constant waves of change it brings.

These blog posts invite you to embrace the wildness of curiosity.

If you’re convinced curiosity is worth pursuing, let me introduce you to our Village Project. We’re developing our Mt Martha site to build six self-contained units for young families experiencing homelessness, along with additional support facilities. Housing in our region has become nearly impossible for countless people to secure. Among the most vulnerable are those under 25 with children, predominantly single mothers fleeing family violence.

In 2016, a young woman who had lived with us moved back in with her mother. When possible and safe, reuniting with family is ideal for a young person. Their shared unit was small, but they made it work – until the young woman became pregnant. This created tension in their relationship until it eventually broke down. When her baby was born, she had nowhere to go. She and her newborn were homeless.

Like any mother, she wanted the best start for her child. Imagine the challenge of being a first-time mother while facing homelessness. Picture holding your newborn, knowing you can’t provide a home, aware that a social worker has the power to take your baby away. Your only ‘crime’? Homelessness. The pressure, fear, and hopelessness led this young mother to need psychological support. Remarkably, she was one of the lucky ones – admitted to a psychiatric ward with her baby. This is incredibly rare; child protection services typically separate mothers and babies in these situations, leaving mothers without hope. Instead, this mother learned to change diapers, bathe, feed, and care for her little one during six weeks in a psychiatric ward.

This is where curiosity transforms from a heartbreaking howl of ‘why?’ or ‘how?’ into a collective human response. Not a white knight with a magic money stick swooping in to save the day without human connection. Instead, it’s that odd bunch of people who get their hands dirty, persevere through setbacks, and cry with their neighbours because hope at this level is a gruelling game. Nine years have passed since that child was born. They are now well into primary school and are a proud older sibling. Because of that mother – a true hero – and many others like her, we’re about to build a village. Yes, we are the Village People.

The 1970s band The Village People created the anthem ‘Y.M.C.A.’ – a song that makes most of us instinctively throw our arms into those iconic shapes. But beneath the catchy tune is a meaningful message: ‘Young man, I know a place you can go’. In the 1970s, the YMCA was a refuge for young men experiencing homelessness.

In my years working with homeless populations, I’ve witnessed how the LGBTQIA+ community experiences homelessness at epidemic levels. I remember attending the funeral of a 17-year-old whose family rejected him upon discovering his sexuality. The constant message that you don’t matter or deserve to exist can eventually become internalised. The Village People took that pain and transformed it into a celebration, offering a ‘place you can go’:

Young man, are you listening to me? I said

Young man, what do you want to be? I said

Young man, you can make real your dreams

But you’ve got to know this one thing

No man does it all by himself, I said

Young man, put your pride on the shelf

And just go there, to the Y.M.C.A.

I’m sure they can help you today.

Who wants to be associated with The Village People? Only those bold enough to challenge the bleak machinery of a system where young mothers face homelessness and risk having their babies taken away. I, for one, am proud to be part of the Village, because it’s where we will raise these beautiful children, together.

Gemma Bell (Team Leader, Fusion Mornington Peninsula)