A photo-narrative about the men at the intersections.
By Belle Butler.
Funded by The Seed.
In 2011 The Seed Grant funded an idea of mine to learn about the windscreen-washers of Sydney. I had witnessed the verbal abuse they receive on a daily basis and had seen fear and misunderstanding as the driving force behind such abuse. I wondered if learning more about these men might change the way we think of them and treat them.
At the time of this project, standing on a street corner and washing windscreens for money was illegal. Doing so meant risking a minimum fine of $65. But in the good times it could provide a enough cash to live off and, despite the hazards of the job and some ill-sentiment to contend with, there were enough supportive drivers out there to keep windscreen-washers busy. While the police were a constant threat to business, they most often turned a blind eye or simply asked the washers to move on.
With the intention of learning about their lives and bringing their stories to the public, I met with ten windscreen-washers around inner-city Sydney. All were extremely friendly and open to chat. Five agreed to be photographed and represented in this project. Their stories and portraits were displayed on the fence of Glebe Public School along Glebe Point Road, Sydney, and can now be viewed by clicking on the links above.
What became clear over the course of my work was that typically these men had experienced some serious adversity in their lives. Whether it had been tough from the start or choices later on in life had led to difficulties, washing windscreens had become a way out – a means of surviving and living on. They were not looking for sympathy. Quite the opposite. These men were proud of the fact that they were working for their living. They considered their efforts a service to the community, and they prided themselves on doing a good job. During the hours I spent with them they showed great respect for others, including me, and I believe they deserve to be respected in return.
At the time of this project, standing on a street corner and washing windscreens for money was illegal. Doing so meant risking a minimum fine of $65. But in the good times it could provide a enough cash to live off and, despite the hazards of the job and some ill-sentiment to contend with, there were enough supportive drivers out there to keep windscreen-washers busy. While the police were a constant threat to business, they most often turned a blind eye or simply asked the washers to move on.
With the intention of learning about their lives and bringing their stories to the public, I met with ten windscreen-washers around inner-city Sydney. All were extremely friendly and open to chat. Five agreed to be photographed and represented in this project. Their stories and portraits were displayed on the fence of Glebe Public School along Glebe Point Road, Sydney, and can now be viewed by clicking on the links above.
What became clear over the course of my work was that typically these men had experienced some serious adversity in their lives. Whether it had been tough from the start or choices later on in life had led to difficulties, washing windscreens had become a way out – a means of surviving and living on. They were not looking for sympathy. Quite the opposite. These men were proud of the fact that they were working for their living. They considered their efforts a service to the community, and they prided themselves on doing a good job. During the hours I spent with them they showed great respect for others, including me, and I believe they deserve to be respected in return.