Ron Berry has a clear idea of why he is involved in the East Reservoir Men’s Shed.
“It gets me away from home…and back into society,” says the Melbourne tram driver, who has been forced out of work forthe past three-and-a-half months with a health problem.
He says the facility’s bicycle repair program helps to make him feel useful.
“You see, I’m as normal as you,” he adds cheekily, while tinkering with a set of handlebars.
“Normal?!” Bellows a Men’s Shed participant standing nearby.
“Well, if there’s such a thing as normal!” Ron responds between fits of laughter. “I’m supposed to be the funny one,” he confides, “I keep ‘em amused!”
It in many ways encapsulates the ethos of the burgeoning Men’s Shed movement – the ‘shoulder to shoulder’ camaraderie which has proved so beneficial in fostering mental and physical well-being.
Over the past 10 or so years Men’s Sheds – that is, grassroots programs which bring together men over the age of fifty to socialise and work on common projects – have burst into the Australian mainstream.
With only a handful in existence in the late 1990s, there are now around 720 registered Men’s Sheds nationally, and approximately 160 in Victoria alone.
Rick Hayes, a senior lecturer in public health at La Trobe University who helped establish the Darebin Men’s Shed, says the movement was spurred by the first national Men’s Shed conference in Lakes Entrance in 2005.
The program has since spread offshore, with similar initiatives emerging in places as diverse as Mexico, Ireland and Spain.
But what is it specifically about this remarkably simple idea which has so caught the imagination of health professionals, governments and retirees alike?
For Darebin Community Health chief executive Jim Killeen, the program’s success boils down to its ability to tap into the way men relate to each other.
“There is a difference in the way men and women are socialised that has an impact on how you provide adequate supports,” he says.
“If a healthcare worker tries to address a man about a particular issue, often they will become quite defensive.
“The Shed is sort of a non-threatening way of getting them out of their houses and involved in a group program.”
In Darebin, the business case for programs like the Men’s Shed is clear. The municipality has an ageing population, with around 14.7 per cent of its residents in the 65+ age bracket.
Reports also indicate that the prevalence of mental health issues is on the rise, with incidents of dementia projected to more than double by 2050.
Additionally, the region experiences higher unemployment than the national average, and hosts one of the highest populations of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people of any local government area in Victoria.
Such indicators have guided the establishment of a variety programs at the East Reservoir facility.
On Mondays and Tuesdays, the site is attended by around twenty-five men over the age of 50 – many of whom suffer from depression, dementia or general social isolation – while on Wednesdays the facility is utilised by an Aboriginal men’s group.
A program catering to men aged between 20 and 50 with mental health issues is set to begin in November on Thursdays and Fridays.
Evidently, such programs come with a cost, and it is this which Jim Killeen sees as the biggest challenge facing the Men’s Shed movement.
At present, the Federal Government offers grants of up to $10,000 to assist individual Men’s Sheds to get off the ground or purchase equipment, while the Victorian Government donates up to $30,000 to help shed programs expand their activities.
While Mr Killeen is broadly in support of such grants, he views the lack of recurrent government funding as posing a significant problem for the longevity and ultimate success of Men’s Sheds.
“Unfortunately we’ve got a health system that’s mainly focused on funding the hospital system – and it should be funded well – but there needs to be massive investment and growth over time in the primary health care space, including programs like this,” he says.
“If social isolation has such a big impact on health, then it’s inefficient and uneconomic not to address that.”
A modestly sized tin shack situated behind DCH’s East Reservoir site, the external appearance of the Men’s Shed belies its significance.
At lunch-time on a Monday, fifteen or so men sit around a large communal table to a meal of lasagna and salad.
Behind them, in the centre of the shed, stands a pool table, while a work-bench with assorted tools and materials occupies the back third of the space.
In the front section is a kitchen, bordered by a range of books, games, vinyl records and two computers.
It becomes evident from observing and talking to the men that they get very different things out of the shed.
One man tells me about his success in overcoming a ‘battle with the grog’, while hammering away on a coffee table he’s repairing for his bedroom. Kevin, an ex-clerical worker, says he likes coming just for the company, while Keith, a 75 year-old retired train mechanic, gets real satisfaction out of helping with the Bike Linx program.
Established by DCH and Northcote YMCA, with the assistance of a $54,000 Victoria Government seed grant, Bike Linx engages Men’s Shed participants to fix damaged bicycles, which are then given out to people in need.
Ashley Bartholomew, a YMCA Area Manager who oversaw the beginnings of the initiative in 2010, says that over 200 bikes have since been gifted to schools, refugees and other disadvantaged groups.
Keith, one of the regular bicycle repairmen, is almost lost for words when telling me about the gifting process.
“Some of the refugees come…you give ‘em a bike and you give ‘em a helmet, and you just see their face light up!”
For Andrew O’Grady, one of two Men’s Shed Coordinators engaged by Darebin Community Health, the Bike Linx program is indicative of the benefits such informal activities have in reinforcing cooperation and peer support.
He tells me a story of how the men went about helping one of the participants who had strayed from the shed after a personal crisis.
“They were coming back to me, aware of what he needed, and asking me, ‘can you sus out this for us because we want to get this teed up for him’.
“There’s a real bond between them, you know. Most of them had nothing to do with each other less than a year ago.”
Such anecdotal evidence of the benefits of the Men’s Shed is supported by a growing body of research.
A 2007 report by Rick Hayes and Michelle Williamson identifies many positive effects of providing a space for older men to socialise and work on common tasks – from creating a comfortable environment for men to talk about health issues to improving self-esteem.
The article also emphasises the value of having Men’s Sheds attached to community health organisations so that men can be easily channelled into relevant programs – an advantage which Darebin Community Health often utilises.
Late in the day, Keith tells one last story of his experiences at the Men’s Shed.
“One of our members was a bit of a recluse, he wasn’t mixing with anyone,” he says in a hushed and serious tone, “so I managed to talk him into coming over.
“And now, he’s a very important part of the establishment,” he says with pride.
“Oh, he is, he is.” Ron chimes in. “The kids that come past love him!
“You see, by being involved with something like this and with people like these,” he adds, “you get a chance to understand yourself a bit better, and it gives you a chance to be involved in the community.”
He pauses for a moment in contemplation, before adding playfully:
“Just give us a bloody good write up!”
This article appeared in the Preston Leader (online) on 27/11/2012. An abridged version appeared on the front page of the print edition.
The Siren 