We’ve always had bushfires. What’s changed, and how is MotHs involved?

“We’ve always had wildfires — so what’s changed?” It’s a fair question, and one raised by Professor Dan Guttman at the Living with 2°C Plus roundtable on climate adaptation.

Ever the optimist and with an ‘equitious until proven otherwise’ mindset, I’d been rebuffing some uncomfortable concerns for too long, until Dan asked that question. Somehow between training with Gender and Diversity Australia, a meeting with Fire to Flourish’s CEO, Professor Briony Rogers, National Volunteers Week, reading new research on the Northern Rivers region (and shouting “yes” too loudly in a cafe) and being handed a 2021 article in The Conversation, I had managed to keep my thoughts pigeon-holed - that is, until MotH’s online crisis this month. Dan’s question at this point in time converged ideas with long-held feelings to make things abundantly clear. Serendipitous? Maybe.

So what’s changed? The answer, after this month of learning, listening and experience, is almost everything.

Yes, Australia has always faced storms, floods and bushfires. But climate change is driving disasters that are more frequent, more intense and more far-reaching. At the same time, the way we connect, organise and recover has shifted too. Disasters no longer start and end with emergency services. These days, they ripple through group chats and Facebook threads as much as in neighbourhood kitchens and community halls. While there is more awareness of how long it may take communities to recover, little attention has been given to where it now takes place. Spoiler alert, in regional and rural areas impacted by disaster, it can happen online, partly because of the feeling of anonymity that online discussions can bring. What this means is that communities like ours are being asked to carry more than ever before, and well-intentioned and highly supported efforts to create disaster-resilient communities are, more often than not, being carried by women, and they’re not being resourced.

This story isn’t unique to us. The University Centre for Rural Health has recently published research on the leadership of women in disaster recovery in the Northern Rivers floods. While public attention focused on dramatic rescues, women were managing food, shelter, mental health care, and complex coordination efforts from homes and community spaces. These women weren’t just supporting their communities; they were holding them together.

MotHs has seen this firsthand. Since 2015, we’ve supported families in the Dandenong Ranges as a hybrid community, celebrating the people in our online group as a valuable network that strengthens connections in ‘the real world’. At a macro scale, especially during times of disaster, this network helps to mobilise volunteers, share real-time information, and facilitate collaborative efforts with larger organisations. On the micro scale, members provide essential, individualised support and recommendations at any time of the day or night. This isn’t the description of a traditional community group but a complex adaptive system. And because we’ve seen how powerful this system is and know what it can achieve, we’re focused on addressing factors that may fragment and weaken this system, notably the factors that cause isolation.

Disasters don’t just damage property, they disrupt connection. They pull people out of routines and relationships. And if no one’s watching, that disconnection grows over time. Research following the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake found that social isolation increased significantly after the event, especially among older adults. Isolated survivors were more likely to suffer from physical and mental health issues in the long term. We’ve seen smaller but similar patterns here in the Hills following the June 2021 storms. People pull away or move on, and support networks dissolve as funding dries up, making recovery very lonely. That’s why networks like MotHs are so important, as we’re constantly establishing new connections while maintaining existing ones. We don’t exist in case of a disaster, but if one occurs, we’re already set up online and off.

However, when Facebook changed its algorithm earlier this month, the ability for mums to give and receive help dropped dramatically, signalling our first major digital disaster. Thanks to our incredible volunteer team, who activated plans developed for this very situation, members were alerted (via email and chats), communication pathways were rebuilt, and we turned it around. We kept the community informed, even as the platform itself worked against us. That recovery didn’t happen because of funding or official support. It happened because people showed up.

But that effort takes a toll.

We’re proud to say the Dandenong Ranges have a higher-than-average rate of volunteerism. But that strength is stretched. Our volunteers are tired and many are covering costs themselves. Volunteering Victoria reports that volunteers spend an average of $1,710 per year on their work, with only $212 reimbursed. That’s a cost of nearly $1,500 to contribute to the well-being of their community. For those living with financial stress (almost 40% of Australian households), this is a major barrier to participation. Meanwhile, most local government grants still won’t allow funds to be spent on coordination, the very thing that keeps volunteer-led efforts afloat. Without leadership, logistics and support, even the most willing community cannot sustain a response.

That’s why we’ve found such strong alignment with the work of Fire to Flourish, led by Professor Briony Rogers at Monash University. Their research into long-term community recovery identified five critical lessons: invest in Year Zero, fund lasting change over time, move at the pace of trust, customise for each community, and resource communities to lead their own recovery. These are not abstract principles. They reflect what we are already doing at MotHs, without the resources we need to keep going.

So what’s changed?

Yes, the climate. But also the way we care for each other, rely on local leadership, emotional labour and the digital tools to bridge gaps left by overstretched systems. The risk of social isolation has also changed with increased disasters, making the burden to prevent it heavier. This burden is falling on the same shoulders every time, mostly women, mostly volunteers.

That’s why we need to act now.

If you’ve benefited from MotHs, or if you believe volunteer-led community resilience deserves more than applause, contact your local MP. Ask them to support long-term funding for coordination, digital infrastructure, and mental health supports for volunteers. Ask them to rethink disaster resilience funding so that it reflects how recovery really works.

And if you want to be part of something bigger, subscribe to MotHs, share this post, or sign up to volunteer. We’re ready to do more and we’re inviting councils, funders and policymakers to work with us to build a model that’s sustainable, inclusive and prepared for what’s ahead.

Life in a changing climate shouldn’t solely focus on the disasters, nor should it ignore what it does to us, to our mental health, and to our social connections. Should a disaster occur, we know from experience that recovery doesn’t begin or end with a press conference. It happens in our homes, in our messages, and in the quiet, determined actions of people who care. How we stay connected and live happy and healthy lives is crucial for resilient communities.

Please help us to get the message out so that the work of groups like MotHs are acknowledged, resourced and properly funded.

References

  • Briony Rogers & Fire to Flourish. (2023). Five Lessons from Working with Communities on Disaster Recovery. Monash Sustainable Development Institute. Retrieved from https://www.monash.edu/sustainable-development/fire-to-flourish

  • University Centre for Rural Health (UCRH). (2023). Governance, collaboration and community organising in rural Australia: A case study of women’s experiences and contributions to community health and well-being in the Northern Rivers, Australia floods. University of Sydney. Summary available via: https://ucrh.edu.au

  • Volunteering Victoria. (2023). Reduce the Financial Costs of Volunteering. [Policy Position Paper]. Retrieved from https://www.volunteeringvictoria.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/8_Reduce-financial-costs-of-volunteeringFINAL.pdf

  • The Conversation. (2021). Women are finding support in closed Facebook groups – but running them adds to their burden and stress. Retrieved from https://theconversation.com/women-are-finding-support-in-closed-facebook-groups-but-running-them-adds-to-their-burden-and-stress-171215

  • Tomata, Y., et al. (2023). Association between social isolation and incident functional disability in older survivors of the Great East Japan Earthquake. The Tohoku Journal of Experimental Medicine, 261(4), 263–273. Retrieved from https://www.jstage.jst.go.jp/article/tjem/261/4/261_2023.J084/_html/-char/en

Next
Next

Emma Gilmour’s Story of Self-Discovery and Self-Compassion