This week, the Mayor put the kettle on, Fruitloop sprinkled her usual curiosity dust, and at the Café table sat Monica—first-generation Australian, daughter of a German tradesman who arrived in 1952 with little more than determination in his suitcase.
Her father built houses, but more than that, he built a new life. A builder’s hands, a builder’s back, a builder’s silence. Because in those post-war years, being German in Australia meant carrying history on your shoulders while trying to fit into a new one. And tradesmen—well, they carried even more: endless hours, financial worries, dangerous sites. No one asked about mental health. Men were told to “bottle it up.” And so they did. Until hearts gave out too early, or business partners didn’t make it through.
Monica opened that box with us—not just her father’s story, but the echo it leaves in today’s construction industry. She named the demons still lurking on worksites: job insecurity, long hours, money stress, alcohol and drugs as the “acceptable” escape. She also pointed to the quiet revolution underway: conversations about stress, vulnerability, and the networks that make survival less lonely.
The contrast is stark: her father’s generation of stoic silence versus our generation’s tentative “are you okay?” But in that gap lies hope. Because tradespeople are still building—homes, cities, communities. And perhaps now, finally, the scaffolding for mental health too.
The Mayor scribbled in his notes: work can break a man, but talking might just mend him.
Fruitloop, of course, chimed in with her spark: What would change in your life if silence wasn’t your default?
A heavy topic, yes. But one that deserves the light.