There was a time when security didn’t come from walls or paperwork.
It came from people.
Your safety lived in tribe… in shared fires, shared watch, shared care. You belonged, and because you belonged, you were protected.
Somewhere along the way, that changed.
Now security is something you purchase. A house, a mortgage, insurance, locks, cameras. Stability has become contractual. Belonging has become financial.
As recently reported in The Echo, the Mullumbimby Railway Station site, occupied for several years, was fenced and residents were given 48-hours notice to move.
The article included neighbours describing friendly relationships and saying those staying there were ‘never a problem’ and kept the area tidy.
I was one of the people asked to leave.
During that process, a Council manager stated clearly that her responsibility was to protect ratepayers. It was also said that Council determines who can park where.
Those statements may simply reflect administrative reality. But hearing them spoken out loud revealed something deeper.
If belonging is defined primarily through rate-paying status, then security is no longer relational, it is contractual.
Free camping, van life, moving lightly, can look unstable from the outside.
But for many of us, it is not about escaping responsibility. It is about rebuilding something older, interdependence instead of isolation. Presence instead of fortification.
For some, it’s also simply about survival.
Van life does not guarantee heart, but it keeps the door open. When you are mobile, safety does not come from walls. It comes from awareness, cooperation, shared tools, shared meals, shared watch.
The divide here is not vans versus houses.
Nor is it homeowners versus travellers.
Many homeowners showed warmth and humanity, as your article reflected.
The deeper divide is between fear-based containment and heart-based connection.
When safety becomes something that must be purchased alone, when belonging is measured financially, we risk losing something ancient.
And perhaps in a time of housing pressure, it is worth asking whether our systems are structured only to regulate space, or whether they can also make room for relationship.
This is not an attack on Council.
It is an invitation to examine the culture we are quietly reinforcing.
Security can be invoiced, belonging cannot.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
