The Ted Noffs Street University is giving Western Sydney youth a second chance, Simran Gill reports.

Andy Ngo walks into the Street University Liverpool most days carrying a portfolio. Inside are more than 50 fashion sketches created this year alone, some drawn from flowers, some from a hand-held fan, some from nothing more than a passing colour that caught his* eye. Andy is 20 years old, quietly confident and ‘entirely himself.’ That last part, Andy will tell you, took some work.

“Growing up in an Asian household, it was tougher,” Andy says.

“Your family expects you to be something you don’t want to be. But Street Uni gave me clarity about who I am and that it’s okay to be myself.”

Andy first came here in Year 8, introduced through a school program called Big Picture. The young adult has barely stopped coming since.

“I was hooked,” Andy says.

“I can come here and be myself without worrying what other people think about how I look, how I act, or what sexuality I am. These people helped me become who I am today.”

Stories like Andy’s are exactly what the Ted Noffs Foundation had in mind when it opened the doors of the first Street University in Liverpool in 2008.

The program is based on a philosophy from the organisation’s founder, the late Reverend Ted Noffs, that ‘no young person is a write-off.’ The Street University is a free, non-residential service for young people aged 12 to 25 dealing with drug and alcohol issues, mental health challenges, unemployment, housing instability and the particular pressures of growing up in a community that doesn’t always make it easy.

There are now Street University sites across NSW, the ACT and Queensland, collectively reaching more than 15,000 young people each year.

The Liverpool site sits at the heart of Sydney’s south-west, a region that has borne more than its share of hardship.

Thane Poloai, an engagement worker at the Liverpool site, has seen the landscape shift over his years in the community.

“Liverpool took a hit, especially in the early 2000s when the heroin epidemic came through, and then the ice epidemic,” he says bluntly.

“We copped it really hard.” He pauses. “But it’s great to see organisations like ours making a difference.”

Thane is the kind of youth worker who does everything: cooking, lyric writing, music workshops, design, school outreach and more. He speaks about young people with a warmth that makes it obvious why they trust him. Much of his work happens before a young person ever sets foot in the building. His team runs 10-week programs in local schools, targeting primarily Year 9 and Year 10 students, an age group Thane considers pivotal.

“That’s where they start making their friends and making those choices, whether they’re going to be a great student or just hang out with the troublemakers,” he says.

“I love getting to know those young people and showing them there’s another way to go.”

The school programs always include a visit to the Street University itself. Seeing it in person, Thane says, is what makes the difference.

“It’s wonderful to tell them about Street University and the wonderful things we do here, but we get more of a chance of them coming when they actually visit the space.”

Once they do come, the approach is deliberately low-pressure. There are no expectations.

“We don’t expect them to be anybody,” Thane says.

“They just come as they are. It’s never about the staff members – it’s really about the young person that walks through that door.”

This philosophy is baked into the foundation’s model, which national outclient director Simone Angus-Carr describes using a four-part framework: hooks, brakes, cranes and trains.

The hooks are the spaces themselves, the music studios, design workshops, creative programs and welcoming staff that draw young people in. The brakes slow things down, allowing for assessment and genuine engagement. The cranes bring in the clinical layer, with counsellors working on the floor alongside young people rather than behind a desk. And the trains keep things moving forward.

“The counsellor can sit in the studio and engage the young person there,” Simone explains.

“The young person might say, ‘I don’t want to do counselling, but I’ll sit here and play guitar with you.’ And then they go, ‘Oh, you’re not so bad, maybe I will have a chat.’ That warm referral into treatment is what differentiates us from a standard youth centre.”

The numbers bear this out. A 2022 UNSW study found that 50% of young people who remained with the service reduced their drug dependence, 71% experienced reduced psychological distress and 55% reported an improved quality of life.

A separate evaluation found that over three years, participants showed a 63% reduction in anti-social behaviour, a 78% improvement in relationships and a 59% increase in education and employment outcomes. In the same study, 74% of community members surveyed said crime had reduced because of Street University.

At the Liverpool site, Simone says around 300 to 500 individual young people come through each year, with 260 accessing the counselling service. Cannabis is the primary drug of concern, followed by alcohol and methamphetamine, with poly-substance use common (where two or more substances are used at the same time – for example, alcohol and drugs).

Around 40% of young people who use the service have a mental health diagnosis, and about 20% have a history of suicidal ideation or self-harm. “Their needs are pretty high,” Simone says simply.

One of the programs addressing those needs directly is Stitched Up, a design and fashion workshop that has become a genuine pathway for young people like Andy.

Participants learn the foundations of design, develop their own clothing, build logos, and in some cases explore small business and entrepreneurship. Counsellors are embedded in the group, using the creative space as a way in. Simone notes that around 18% of Stitched Up participants have gone on to access counselling through the program, a figure she’s proud of.

For Andy, Stitched Up has been transformative. Thane worked with her* closely, helping Andy find what she describes as ‘a physical way to bring my creativity to life.’

Fashion design, Andy says, gave her ‘creative freedom and the chance to showcase who I am on the inside out.’

Andy now dresses in colour and feminine clothing, wearing pieces she has created. “It’s how I’ve been transitioning into this new life,” Andy says, “and it’s been working out wonders.”

Andy Ngo

None of this would be possible without the support of Mounties Group, the Mount Pritchard-based club that has stood behind the Liverpool Street University since its foundation.

Over the years Mounties has contributed more than $460,000 in grants and assistance, funding that has supported the building, programs and staffing that make the service possible.

Simone is clear about what that partnership means in practice.

“A general funding body would ask, ‘Why does a kid care about designing clothing? That’s not measurable.

“But Mounties gives us the flexibility to run really great programs. There’s the building, the studio, the design programs – a lot of really great things we’ve been able to do with their support over the years.”

Ted Noffs has said that “Street Universities wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for Mounties. They were there at the very beginning and were the first club to get behind us.”

That loyalty has not gone unnoticed by those working on the ground, or by the young people whose lives have been shaped by what it made possible.

Andy puts it more simply. Asked what she would say to a young person thinking about coming but was not quite sure, she doesn’t hesitate. “Just give it a chance. You won’t know unless you try. Try to live the best life you can.”

*Andy Ngo uses he/she pronouns.