Linley Wilkie meets a group of fathers who are banding together to help their children – and each other.
It’s an icy Wednesday evening in South Morang, but the scene at the Italian culinary and cultural hub, Farm Vigano, is heart-warming.
Eight burly blokes in matching aprons are in the kitchen preparing pumpkin soup and shepherd’s pie for their children, who are busy with colouring-in and hopscotch while they wait.
Some of the fathers are pretty ordinary with a potato peeler while others fare moderately better under the watchful eye of chef Troy Matthewman, who’s teaching them to prepare quick, nutritious meals.
But tonight is more than a lesson in comfort food.
The men are members of Sole Fathers United, a Mill Park-based organisation providing support to the fathers who need it most. Separated from their partners, they all have partial or full custody of their children. Many are stay-at-home dads.
After cooking the meal, the men and children gather at the table to eat, the fathers chewing the fat about footy, cars and what’s happening at home while the children tuck into the home-cooked food and enjoy catching up with friends.
Flitting between the cooks and the kids is group president Tyrell Moore, who created the non-profit organisation in 2009 after taking full custody of his daughter, Mariah, who will be six next month.
‘‘I’ve got a few female friends who are mothers and they were a great help,” says Moore, 31. “But after speaking to a few men, I realised not many fathers had that kind of network and there were minimal services directly for fathers.
All fathers and children need a network where they can get together, so I started the support group.”
According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics, 13 per cent of single parent households in 2006 were headed by the father.
By 2010, that had risen to 15 per cent, or 131,850 fathers. Sole Fathers United supports about 18 families, including 30 or so children, but membership ebbs and flows depending on personal circumstances, such as when someone meets a new partner.
“We’ve changed the group to include all fathers, no matter what their family demographic, because at the end of the day it’s about the children,” Moore says. “They deserve the best they can possibly get from their parents and we try to assist as much as we can.”
The group receives sponsorship from the council and local businesses such as accountants, mechanics and printers, and Moore is pushing for state government funding to help the group access additional facilities such as emergency housing.
Having turned his back on previous gigs as a labourer, factory hand and truck driver, Moore now spends his time raising Mariah, running Sole Fathers United and studying for a Diploma of Business at Kangan TAFE’s Indigenous Education Centre.
Last year he completed certificates IV in Community Service and Business and next he plans to undertake a degree in social work.
Events, activities and workshops are integral to the sole dads group, he says, but there’s also more formal welfare support for those who need it, from groups such as the Salvation Army and Anglicare.
Recognising the positive steps Moore was taking, friend and fellow single dad Troy Regan, 38, came on board as vice-president of the group soon after it began.
“It’s hard with men, we don’t really get together and make groups that easy,” says the straight-shooter from Bundoora, who has full custody of his daughter, Lydia, 12.
“I’ve had it both ways, where I’ve had Lydia there and haven’t had her there. It’s easier to have her there – you’ve got less money and you’ve got less everything, but you don’t have to worry about her.”
Don’t think Regan wants any kudos for his parenting efforts, though.
“I actually get a bit upset when they compliment me for bringing up my daughter. They don’t compliment women for bringing up their kids by themselves. I’m not doing anything special.”
Regan says fathers attend Sole Fathers United meetings for various reasons. “We had one bloke who was really upset and saw his kids and his missus as one unit that could only exist as it was,” he says.
‘‘He was getting to a point where he was going to do something stupid. [We told him] ‘Just let it go mate, it’s all fine’. It was good for him to hear that.”
The group also provides a chance for men to meet others in similar circumstances, and for their kids to do the same.
“The main reason I like this, wasn’t support for myself, but because Lydia hadn’t met any kids who were being brought up by their dad,” Regan says. “Now she comes down here and plays with kids who are in the same situation.”
Reservoir father of two Jeff Scott joined Sole Fathers United almost two months ago, after trying other organisations such as Dads in Distress Support Services.
“Having a group is unique to a father going through custody battles with his kids,” says the 45-year-old who has 37 per cent custody of his daughters, Tara, 8, and Amber, 6.
“You’re out there on your own; all you know is the people around you and they’re married, happy, or have no kids at all. It’s hard to find a group that’ll give you reflection on who you are. The last thing you need is to have a psychologist saying, ‘This is what you should be doing’. You’re not after that, you’re just after feedback.”
As his daughters’ carer, Scott struggles to arrange play dates because he is not acquainted with their school friends or their parents. Sole Fathers provides a chance for the girls to meet and play with others. “You do it all for the kids,” he says. “The more fathers you meet, the more kids you meet.”
The group meets fortnightly at Mill Park Library, which gives the children – mostly girls – a chance to read and play while the men discuss issues such as fussy eaters and putting kids to bed. Tyrell Moore hands out recipes, encouraging dads to expand their menus.
It’s one of the reasons he initiated the cooking classes, with Whittlesea council providing more than $3000 for ingredients.
“It’s about the kids having nutritional food instead of getting bored and expecting McDonald’s,” he says. “The fathers get together and cook a massive meal, then sit down at the table and have a yarn and the kids can be there.”
Regan jokingly refers to the Vigano lessons as a soup kitchen, but says: “One of the hardest things is cooking for kids every day, even though they often like the same thing.
‘‘Everyone knows how to cook, kind of. But it’s about more than that: it’s about eating tea together and the kids just love it.”
You won’t get an argument from Moore: “The group’s helped me just as much as it’s helped other people. It does have its challenges but nothing that’s worth doing is easy.”
The next Sole Fathers United cooking class is on August 6 at Farm Vigano Community and Cultural Centre, 10 Bushman’s Way, South Morang. Details: solefathersunited.org.au.
