I have always been moved by the statue of John Brosnan opposite the Brunswick library.

Father John was chaplain at Pentridge gaol for thirty years, he was street wise, down to earth and likeable. He also said something that has remained with me: “When someone gets out of prison they need three things – friendship, a place to live that’s decent, and a job that they can handle. And the hardest of these to provide is friendship”.

My experience working at Jesuit Social Services, which has a particular focus on disadvantaged young people, convinces me that his statement is still true today. People who have become enmeshed in the criminal justice system continue to have many doors closed to them well after they have exited custody. Friendship, housing and work remain elusive. The challenging thing is that this tattered pathway through life begins well before young people first fall out with the law. All our experience with young people, all the research evidence, tells us that children who come into contact with the justice system at the youngest age are most at risk of finding themselves there again on more serious matters. The lives of these children are often scarred by experiences of abuse, neglect and trauma. Family relationships can be fractured; education disrupted; homelessness, mental health and substance issues are common.

This September, Jesuit Social Services held a conference at which policy makers, academics, politicians and other interested people from across Australia came together to ask how the lives of such children and young people might be improved.

The setting suggested the answer. The National Justice Symposium was held at Deakin Edge at Federation Square. We looked through the glass domed ceiling to the gum trees on the opposite bank of the Yarra and heard of the too many Aboriginal children in the criminal justice system. We knew we were within a stone throw of Birrarung Marr, the name meaning ‘river bank’ in the Woiwurrung language of the Wurundjeri people, the Aboriginal custodians at the time of European settlement of the Melbourne area. This was a natural place for people to meet, bringing together the river’s banks, the modern square and the steps beneath the iconic clocks of Flinders Street station. The place and the talks we heard, both spoke of the importance of meeting places, of relationships, of people coming together to care and support one another. We spoke of services better coordinating and working together and of ordinary people understanding what is really needed to turn children’s lives around. Most of all we spoke of children’s need for secure, safe and stable relationships that would offer them hope for the future.

Friendship was the elusive gift Father Brosnan sought for some of the most reviled and rejected people in our community.

For prisoners and for many children the gift is still elusive. But holding open our hearts and minds to those whom love has often passed by can be a first step to friendship.

* Thanks to Andrew Hamilton SJ for his input to this story.