Insight explores how community attitudes are impacting Australia's housing: is Nimbyism protecting our communities or holding us back and locking people out? Watch 'Not in My Backyard' on SBS on Demand.
The rain pelted relentlessly on my tent, turning the floor into a waterbed. I longed for rest before work in the morning, but the noise was deafening.
I didn't always live like this. I used to love the sound of rain; it would send me to sleep. But now I hate it because it's taken everything I own – it has soaked my possessions while destroying my sanity and any chance of peace.
Until a few weeks ago, I was living in a tent in Far North Queensland, right across from a beautiful beach. It was that way for months.
Five days each week, I walked to a five-star resort to work as a public areas cleaner, hiding my homelessness behind a smile and a name badge. The guests were enjoying time away from home, blissfully unaware that the person serving them had no place to call home.
My finances were depleted from ute registration and repairs, and my smile was fading as I struggled to survive.
A few months earlier, things were very different. I was a dedicated stay-at-home parent to two young children.
For 20-odd years, I never missed a rent payment. I'm educated, a hard worker and always willing to have a go. I do not drink, smoke or gamble, and I have no debt aside from student loans.
The NIMBY attitude stops people like me from having a stable home.Jon Jordan
Last year, I taught myself to carve jade. I created items from the stone in my garage and sold them to overseas customers and at a market stall in Port Douglas every Sunday. I felt like a big part of my community.
But my wife and I separated and she wanted to be the primary caregiver of our children, I respected her decision and left the family home so my kids could have stability.
That's how I found myself living in a tent.
Uncertain when I'll see my kids again
Finding housing in Far North Queensland is nearly impossible. Many come here for regional work visa extensions, while those from the southern states with work-from-home jobs outbid locals for the limited number of available rentals.
I was forced to consider shared housing. But these places are no environment for children or my noisy jade carving workbench. It's a heartbreaking reality: I am a homeless father, away from my children and unable to pursue my passion.
But I could only stay at the tourist park for a limited amount of time. So, in June, I made the difficult decision to leave for Brisbane, seeking better pay and more options.
I hugged my children, tears flowing, uncertain when I'd see them again. My heart broke to leave them and my community behind.
I've since been living in the back of my ute, which is illegal.
I climb into the back via a ladder that is almost 100 years old. That ladder feels like a symbol of my life; I keep climbing, but never get any higher.
Jon Jordan has been living in his ute for two months, moving around to avoid fines. Source: Supplied
Australia lacks medium to high-density homes, as people resist apartment buildings near their low-density houses. Instead, we lay fields of four-bedroom homes. The issue is complex, and the ones suffering are people like me, desperate for a place to call home.
The NIMBY attitude – those who say "not in my backyard" to development – stops people like me from having a stable home, from being part of a community.
And saddest of all, it's affecting my children's ability to see their dad.
Australia's housing crisis is a call to action. We need to find solutions to provide homes for everyone, to ensure that no more fathers or families endure the pain of homelessness.
Only then can we truly be a compassionate and inclusive society, where everyone has a chance to thrive.
