They were all crowded into a little rowboat. And I was rowing. Mum, Dad, my sister Betty, they all stood in the boat. I know, right? No one stands in rowboats.

But they were. My grandparents were there too. My grandparents were in the boat in the wrong clothes. But those images of my grandparents, they are the only ones I have, from the photos my parents took with them from Hungary, from Czechoslovakia. And held on to them through the war, through their time in the displaced persons camp where they stayed in Austria, just before Australia said it would take them. I never knew my grandparents. When I was younger, I would obsessively read books about the Holocaust, wondering exactly how they died. Then I got to the stage when even watching The Sound of Music filled me with panic.

These past few days, I'm experiencing what modern people call being "triggered". The images of dead children and dead adults are washing over me. I am sleepless but, when I do doze off, these images wake me again. I am rowing but I don't get anywhere.

I am rowing.

Saturday night just past was terrible. I got into shocking rows with people, people who said we shouldn't share the images of the dead boy. We mustn't share the images of the dead. That we needed their permission.

And that made me so angry. Not because I don't believe in the pure intent of those who say we shouldn't share but because they are wrong. So wrong. The photo of Aylan shows the world what happens when it hardens its heart.

Here in Australia, the hearts of those who lead us were hardened years ago. We re-elected a government who thought it was perfectly OK to pretend refugees were throwing their children overboard. Then we elected another government that didn't want to accept refugees. And another one now. Four in a row. This one tells us we take more refugees per capita than any other country. Good on you, Australia, electing another government that lies and misleads.

Now, pathetically, I see an outpouring of sympathy for the dead, the dying; and those who will die trying to escape. Hard to escape that photo of Aylan, isn't it?

It's all well and good to hand over your money to a thousand non-government organisations that will try to mop up the mess we create but, while you are doing that, recognise that there are many organisations and businesses in Australia who are profiting from cruelty to refugees. Every single day. So many organisations and businesses in Australia who do business with Transfield Services, and those businesses and organisations aren't specifically in the business of cruelty, of abuse, but they benefit from it.

On Sunday morning, after my sleepless night, I received two messages, one about the University of Newcastle and one about the University of Wollongong. I have friends at both these institutions and feel connected to them because I work for a university. But it turns out that the University of Newcastle and Transfield Services signed a five-year $88 million integrated facilities management and property services contract earlier this year. And just last week a memorandum of understanding focusing on maritime border security was signed between the Department of Immigration and Border Protection and the University of Wollongong.

Our public institutions are supporting cruel government policy and process.

Greens senator Sarah Hanson Young is quite clear on this: "We need institutions like universities to make a stand not to take money from companies making their money on the back of cruelty."And she says it's not just those partnerships we need to avoid. We need to put pressure on companies such as Rio Tinto, which has massive contracts with Transfield. These are companies and organisations with which Australians interact every single day. And these are the companies Angela Mitropoulos watches carefully.

It was her research that led the Cross Border Operational Matters campaign forcing the Sydney Biennale to cut ties with Transfield; and, again, her research that led the Cross Border Operational Matters campaign for industry super fund HESTA to divest from Transfield.

That may be the reason a group of NGOs are now planning a massive assault on those who invest in cruelty industries, those who profit from abuse. I can only hope those NGOs will work together with those who've already paved the way.

As Mitropoulos puts it, Australians often feel like they are held back from acting on mandatory detention. She says we feel as if camps such as Manus are too remote for us to take effective action.

"We feel we can't access those places but Newcastle University, for example, is part of an economy.

"If you make those investments more costly, organisations will think it through in terms of risk.

"It will cost them more to do horrible things."

So how can ordinary Australians help?

"We all need to call for divestments, we need to call for contracts to be voided."

Divestment works. Shares in Transfield are at their lowest level in 18 months since HESTA announced its divestment – and other super funds soon followed. Which seems fair enough since it can't keep refugees safe. Surely that should be part of the deal.

All the dead are in my dreams. I can't bring them back. But I can make sure that my money isn't being used to dig their graves.

Twitter @JennaPrice or email jennapricejournalist@gmail.com