My Name is Colin
I’ve lived around this part of Sydney most of my life. Alexandria, Erskineville, Waterloo, I’ve called a few places home over the years. Like most people, I’ve had my ups and downs. Some good times, some hard times. Thirty years ago, when life was a bit rough, I found my way to Newtown Mission.
Back then, I came for the same reasons a lot of people do. A meal. A friendly face. A place where nobody looked down on you. I kept coming back because it felt different. People knew your name. They cared about how you were going.
When COVID came along, someone asked if I’d like to volunteer. I didn’t think twice. I just said yes.
What struck me was that there’s really no difference between the people serving and the people being served. We’re all the same. We all need help at different times in our lives. One day you’re receiving support, and another day you’re wearing an apron and helping someone else. That’s what makes this place special.
I’ve met hundreds of people here over the years. I might not remember every name, but I remember the kindness. I remember the laughs. People joke that I know everyone, and maybe I do. I like making people smile. Life’s hard enough without a laugh now and then.
One of the best things about Newtown Mission is that it gives you purpose. Instead of wandering around wondering what to do, you come here and there’s something meaningful waiting for you. I’ve done first aid courses, Bible studies, community programs. I’ve made friends. Some of those friends have become like family.
And family is exactly what this place feels like.
I’ve had trouble in my past. I’ve made mistakes. There were times when I felt judged by the world because of those mistakes. But not here. Here, nobody defines you by the worst thing you’ve ever done. They see who you are today. The staff supported me when I needed it most. They listened. They encouraged me. They never gave up on me.
That’s why I never gave up on this place.
What I love is that everyone gets treated the same. Volunteers don’t get special treatment. We eat the same meals, sit at the same tables, and have the same conversations. There’s no hierarchy. Just people helping people.
I’ve watched Newtown Mission change over the decades. Different ministers, different staff, different programs. But the heart of the place has stayed the same. It’s always been about community, respect, and belonging.
I think about the younger people who come here now, the students, the volunteers, the people giving up their time. They get to see what community really looks like. They learn that helping someone isn’t about charity; it’s about connection.
If there’s one thing I’d want people to know, it’s this: nobody is better than anyone else. We all bleed the same colour. We all need support sometimes.
Newtown Mission has been part of my life since the 1970s. It’s more than a church. It’s more than a service. It’s home.
And if you want to change your life, make some friends, and find a place where people genuinely care, then get involved. Volunteer. Show up. Say hello.
You might be surprised by how much it changes you.