‘If not us, who? If not now, when?’ You Talk, We Die is a highly personalised account of inner-city residents uniting in desperation to change their state government’s response to a major health problem: people struggling with drug addiction.
Heroin addiction and its tragic consequences are a key feature of the inner city. Residents often find people overdosed in dangerous locations, as a result of them having to hide their addiction from the authorities. Relentless emergency sirens evoke a war-zone scenario, while parents never know what drug-related human tragedies or dramas they or their children will encounter on the streets.
After years of country living, this was the inner-city reality that Judy Ryan unwittingly relocated to. While aware of the existence of heroin usage, the extent of the problem in her new neighbourhood was truly shocking. Judy channelled her country roots and tried to imagine how this health crisis would be treated in a country town. Would local people become blasé about finding bodies in gardens? Would government officials avert their gaze? Would local police arrest people who were clearly unwell?
The resulting grassroots campaign that Judy launched faced immense resistance and prejudice. It took three coroners’ reports, a private member’s bill, a by-election, the involvement of a respected community health centre, and the police finally acknowledging that arresting their way out of the problem didn’t work for a drug-injecting centre to be agreed to.
You Talk, We Die shows how an authentic local voice and an inclusive local campaign can change a government’s approach to managing a crisis that impacts everyday lives.
This is a long review, with a few quotes. The topic is complex and important, and I wanted to cover enough to show the author’s work and tenacity. A big thank you to Scribe, and Marina there, for providing my physical copy to read and review. Such an important book.
Judy Ryan grew up in a household believing anything was possible. Raised by a strong woman whose husband died when their youngest, Judy was 2, she and her siblings were raised with a strong work ethic, her mother showing through her own hard work what could be done. Dedicating the book to her mother, using words such as determination, courage, dignity and inspiration, Judy herself has achieved something quite remarkable.
Living in North Richmond, Melbourne, since 2012 she has witnessed overdose, human suffering, intravenous drug use, individuals withdrawing or ‘on the nod’, drug deals, and even death. Residents began to lock up their carports, remove tap handles and change their way of living, always in a hypervigilant state. Life there seems to be a constant state of observation of many awful things – always on alert. ..we knew it was a drug-dealing and injecting hotspot.
Having her mother’s voice telling her ‘If not us who? If not now, when?’ spurred her on, and thus began the journey of the first safe medically supervised injecting room (MSIR) in Victoria. Many opposed this, including members of parliament and those in public office. Some would engage in childish behaviour and ignore her; she was coughed on during Covid. Judy always rose above the unpleasantry, her red lipped smile always at the ready. On the flip side, there are many heart-warming stories of locals looking out for drug addicts, checking in on them with empathy. Judy ended up creating a cohesive community as well as a successful MSIR.
The book contains key abbreviations and a map which are necessary for those who are not local and shows the ‘them’ and ‘us’ dividing mentality for those who are against the facility. The author sought out parents (a school is very close by) and individuals that sat on both sides of the fence. I feel she presented a very measured approach. She highlighted the journey of the Sydney facility which opened in 2001. This place saved lives, and they helped Judy and her team immeasurably. She consulted with experts worldwide and is very comprehensive in her telling of all events. It was long, but worthwhile. I learned a great deal.
Judy put her life on hold, created and led committees, marches, tours, fundraisers, community events, fundraisers. Her life was on hold and I sensed she was very hyper committed to this. While on holidays visiting family long unseen her mind was always on what was going on at home.
You Listened, We Lived
‘Overdose death is quiet. One moment somebody is living and breathing, the next they have stopped breathing… There’s no loud bang. There’s no fanfare.’ I was numb. A young woman with a medical condition died needlessly on our main street. She is dead. Writing about it years later doesn’t diminish the trauma.
These realities make our neighbourhood a deadly place for people with addiction, requiring us to remain on full alert when at home, going shopping, or just out and about, living our lives. This heightened awareness is stressful and exhausting, and the disruption is very real and constant.
People slumped motionless in laneways or staggering in Victoria Street. The constant sirens evoked the sense of living in a ‘war zone.’ We had a hotline to the City of Yarra council’s syringe-disposal and street-cleaning teams, who removed bloodstained swabs, spoons, water bottles, litter, and human waste. My doctor recommended that I get a hepatitis vaccination.
Housing, mental-health, drug-treatment, oral-health, GP, hepatitis-checking, and legal services would always be available. What we saw is that the people using the room had high rates of untreated physical and mental-health issues and that they were open to receiving treatment but they hadn’t been able to organise it.
From an addiction specialist at Melbourne’s St Vincent’s: Opponents of the MSIR have spent the last two years wishing it away without offering an alternative response. But as an addiction medicine specialist, I live in the world as it is, not how others might wish it to be. People are complex. Lives are messy.
North Richmond has long been an area where drug education is a daily matter – where children can see that drugs are a problem and want parents and carers to help them understand it. Like many households, we were already coping with drug use by trespassers in our backyard, dodging used needles seemingly on every street and footpath, taking the kids on detours to avoid psychotic behaviour or the distress of overdose victims. Those downsides have generally improved since the MSIR’s arrival. Meanwhile, drug users in the area now have a safe place to go, and a neighbourhood that cares to help them stay alive.
It’s a straightforward no-nonsense testament to the power of simply taking action. It’s also a wonderful reminder that humanity and compassion should be front and center in any legislation around drugs and addiction. Don’t skip the Appendices – I found the extracts from the visitor’s log at the Medically Supervised Injecting Room in North Richmond the most moving part of You Talk We Die.
Judy Ryan, a resident of South Abbotsford commenced a campaign for Victoria’s first safe injecting facility.
Victoria Street in North Richmond is synonymous with heroin use. It’s a hive for activity. It’s easily accessible, and with that Carrie’s the significant risk of overdose. People were overdosing daily, in the laneways, on the streets, in carports and peoples doorsteps. There was a significant pressure placed on local services, including ambulance, mica paramedics and fire brigades to attend multiple overdoses daily.
Judy, like many residents would intervene, help those in need, contact emergency services and provided first aid until help arrived. After watching so many overdoses, she decided enough was enough and started researching safe injecting rooms (SIR).
This book tells the journey of her research and campaigning, her lobbying within he local community, to parliament and how to see substance use as a health issue.
After multiple rallies, running as an independent in local elections, attending the Kings Cross SIR and multiple donations. The government changed the drugs, positions and controlled substances act in 2017 to allow a two year trial of a SIF.
My personal experience of working in North Richmond for four years in drug and alcohol was an eye opening experience. It was rewarding, challenging and confronting. I am so glad that Judy tirelessly campaigned for the SIF and we’re so lucky to continue to have a safe venue for those to use in a controlled environment and be supported by nurses, social workers, counsellors and access ongoing treatment and support. We need more SIFs to continue the ongoing risk of unnecessary death from overdose and encourage more people to access safe services.
Thank you Judy for everything you’ve done and continue to do.
Thank you to scribe publishing for a gifted copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Fantastic book!! If you are looking to expand your knowledge on safe injecting facilities or generally debunk your stigma about addiction and drug use then I would highly recommend this read. A great political story too that highlights the many bumps along the road in order to achieve social and health legislative reform.
P.S. I was pleasantly surprised how useful this book was from a planning perspective too, may give me some thesis inspiration!
Besides being an engaging account of how Melbourne's first safe injecting facility came to be, this was another reminder of how terrible Liberal/National politicians are, as well as Murdoch media like the Herald Sun, in their active attempts to marginalise a vulnerable population, through lack of support and fearmongering.
This is a readable and extremely inspiring account of Ryan's campaign to open a medically supervised injection centre in Richmond. There are two elements in particular that really struck me: the first is the way that after asking herself, 'when are they going to do something about it,' [the untenable and tragic situation of drug users in Abbotsford/Richmond, and the impact on other residents in the area] Ryan realises that 'they' can be her. I found that a really inspiring way to think of community activism and organising. The other thing that struck me throughout was the way that Ryan always views drug users not as a problem with which the community is faced, but as part of the community. This endows with them with a dignity that they are so often denied in discussions pertaining to them. Ryan's attitude seems deeply felt. Look, the writing isn't great - it's often littered with little cliches and truisms, and heavy on exclamation marks. But it does ring true, as a straightforward and disingenuous account of one woman's bloody impressive work. Doubtless a ghostwriters could have made this a more elegant, articulate book - but it would lack the authenticity it currently has.
This was an educational book about a woman’s fight to introduce a safe injecting facility (SIF) in the Richmond/Abbotsford area in Melbourne. As someone who spent a long time working in Richmond, I was able to visualise many of the locations mentioned in this book. I didn’t know that much about SIFs and had previously an opinion without enough knowledge, so reading this book has put a lot of things into perspective for me. Overall, just a fascinating, informative read.
I’d recommend this one especially if you live in Melbourne.
This book is a masterclass in community advocacy and resilience. You Talk, We Die is both poignant and inspiring, with Judy Ryan giving readers a vivid, unflinching look at the struggles of inner city residents and the obstacles they face in fighting for change. The story demonstrates the power of local voices and grassroots campaigns to challenge systemic issues. Essential reading for anyone passionate about social justice and public health.
In my diploma course of mental health, we had a unit about advocacy, and I stumbled on this book. It describes perfectly how an advocacy process irl happens and I have learned a lot about the difficult hurdles the process comes with. I am very grateful for Judy and the team to pursue this and for the community to back it, and get Melbourne a safe injecting facility!