Stephen Bates (Brisbane, Australian Greens) Share this | Hansard source

Thank you, Mr Deputy Speaker. I would like to begin by acknowledging the traditional owners of the land that we gather on here today, the Ngunnawal people, and the traditional owners of the land of my home electorate, the Yuggera and Turrbal people. We stand on unceded land, and I hope this parliament will take powerful steps towards First Nations justice, recognition and sovereignty.

There are often pivotal moments in our lives that drive us into politics, that awaken us, that make us stand up to fight and say enough is enough. My journey to this place has not been a conventional one. I do not come from a wealthy or political family. I have spent my life up until this moment working in frontline retail and hospitality, and I have been a proud member of the Retail and Fast Food Workers Union during my time in retail. But there have been two pivotal moments for me that have shaped who I am and what my politics is. My experiences of working poverty wage jobs and my coming out as gay both impacted me deeply and forever changed how I saw the world. But who we are as people is often a product of our family and our community, so I hope you will indulge me as I tell you a bit about my family and myself.

I was born and raised in South London. My dad is a musician and a UK native who taught me the importance of compassion and provided a safe space for me to be myself. My mum moved from Rockhampton to London when she was just 16 to pursue a career in ballet. She gifted me the grit, determination and ambition that has led me to be standing before you all today. This upbringing also taught me the value of the arts to the community and to our country, for without our arts and culture what have we to defend?

I am exceptionally lucky to represent a part of this nation that enjoys a vibrant community of artists. From the powerhouse in New Farm to the festivals of Fortitude Valley and beyond, we are so lucky to have a passionate and inclusive art scene that I will support with every fibre of my being to make even bigger. The arts are an invaluable service to our community and our economy. I saw firsthand how many people's lives were impacted through my parents' work and the work of their colleagues.

My family moved to the Central Queensland town of Yeppoon in 2009. This was an immense change from South London. We experienced new and abundant wildlife, forests—sun for the first time!—and the pineapples that Yeppoon is so famous for. But the small town life was not to be forever and in 2012 I moved to Brisbane to study at the University of Queensland and have called Brisbane my home ever since.

Halfway through my studies I was offered a job in the United States with one of the biggest entertainment companies in the world. The job was to work in a frontline customer service role at a globally renowned theme park—see if you can guess where it was! The pay was very low and the hours would be very long, but it was an offer and I did not want to refuse. I had no idea just how much my life was going to change. I worked well over 40 hours a week for $7.56 an hour, the federal minimum wage at the time. It was not just the overseas workers who were on these poverty wages; it was the locals as well. Once we had paid the bills, rent and health insurance we were left with nothing and sometimes even less than that. The immense power imbalance between us as workers and the giant company we were working for was staggering. I was a disposable pawn and that was always made very clear to me.

My experience came on a head one day when I walked into the stockroom of the place I worked at and found one of my colleagues crying on the floor. I asked her what had happened, what was wrong. She was having to make the decision between whether she paid her rent or bought insulin for that month. That was a choice. Life-saving medicine or a roof over your head. It hit me all at once. This is not a society that puts people first. It values profit above all else. I could not allow that to happen in my home.

I returned to Australia in 2014 with my eyes wide open. I saw the creep of Americanisation and neoliberalism across every aspect of our society, and we have seen this come to a head in the last decade. We have been told to accept a belief system that puts people last, that tells us we are measured solely in our ability to make profit for others. We have been told to shrink ourselves, to expect nothing from the government. We have been told that somehow the wealth will trickle down. We have been waiting decades for it to trickle down to us, and it is not coming.

Wages have stagnated. Childcare costs are out of control. State schools are not funded properly. The higher education system has been gutted. Our health system is in crisis, as people wait months for access to services that they need just to survive. Climate change has been all but ignored for the existential threat that it is. Housing stress across the country is at an all-time high. In my electorate of Brisbane, over 50 per cent of the community are renters, myself included. We have seen rents increase astronomically and families pushed into homelessness as a result. With the combining stresses of housing, healthcare costs and education costs, and the increasing number of people living pay cheque to pay cheque, we have to stop. We have to say: enough is enough. People are not asking for much. Brisbane is not asking for much. People are simply asking for a government that has their back, that is on their side and that does not sell them and their futures out to the biggest corporate political donation. I am here to say that I am on your side.

As I stand in this chamber today, I acknowledge that I am just one voice and that I have a responsibility to the community of Brisbane, who sent me here; to young people across the country, who expect much of me; and to the queer community, which I am proud to be a part of. I spent my teenage years knowing I was gay and doing everything in my power to hide it. I told myself I would force myself to get married to a woman, have kids and live in the suburbs, because that was what you did. That was what you had to do. That was what was expected of me. I was lucky enough to have a very supportive family to come out to, but I spent years hiding myself because I could not see anyone in my world who was openly gay. This is so much harder than I thought it would be. I made a promise to myself once I came out: that, if I ever found myself in a public role, I would be open and proud of who I am—hence all the rainbow gear. I would be that person that I never saw growing up, because, if I can help even one person out there, my life will have been worth it.

I was lucky enough during the campaign to have received an email from a mother who told me that, after receiving a letter from me in her mailbox that just happened to mention my partner's name—Scott—her 14-year-old son wanted to donate some of his pocket money to our campaign. When she asked him why, he said he had read the letter and wanted me to win, because, if you cannot see it, you cannot be it. It is not enough to wave a rainbow flag when it is politically convenient. Our community deserves tangible legislation that protects us from discrimination and empowers us to be who we are.

I also have a responsibility to those in the Brisbane community who have lost their voices and can now never be heard. We are in a mental health crisis. The fallout from the ongoing pandemic, cuts to our health system, faltering economy and lack of substantial investment in mental health support has created a crisis that can be difficult to talk about.

A couple of weeks ago I met with a constituent, Jason. He came to me during an incredibly difficult time in his and his family's lives. To this day, I have no idea how he mustered the strength, so soon after this event, to talk about his daughter, Maya. I asked to share his story in this speech, and I am honoured to have received his permission to do so.

Maya Birch was a young woman, 24 years old, when she tragically took her life in May this year. Maya had been struggling with some anxiety and mild depression for approximately two years prior to contracting COVID-19 in January of 2020. However, the decline in her mental health following contracting COVID was rapid and extreme, as she suffered with brain fog, lack of energy and lack of motivation about life in general. Maya had difficulty getting appointments with her regular doctor, resorting to telehealth appointments that could not provide continuity of care at a time when she needed it. Her first appointment with a psychologist was conducted on the footpath outside of a clinic due to confusion and poor communication around isolation rules, leaving her feeling demoralised and in tears. It felt like there was no coordinated structure to navigate a path to recovery. Maya so often was only getting appointments through cancellation lists.

Around the beginning of April, the family hoped Maya had turned a corner. She was showing signs of improvement, engaging once again with some friends and contributing to the household responsibilities with the family pets. Maya wanted to continue to pursue work in the field she had studied for, and she applied for various positions in local veterinary practices, ultimately taking a position close to home for 30 hours per week, beginning immediately after Easter. From her first day at her new job, her anxiety level was high, feelings of inadequacies returned, and she had concerns about underperforming or, as Maya said, being an imposter. The family encouraged Maya to continue believing that if she could simply get through the first couple of months she would be okay.

On 2 May, the Labor Day public holiday in Queensland, Maya announced in tears that she could not do her job. Worried about her mental wellbeing, her father, Jason, wanted to get her out of the house. They decided to see a movie together, and then planned to visit a relative for afternoon tea before joining Jason and Jason's partner and her brother for dinner. But Maya decided she wanted to visit her niece and later go to her mum's for dinner. Following the movie, Jason let Maya know that they could work through her concerns about work, that he would support her in her decision—any decision—if she felt she could not return. Always worried, Jason asked if Maya was considering hurting herself. She confirmed that she was not contemplating it. They parted each other, saying, 'I love you.' This was the last time Jason saw his daughter alive.

Maya is just one name in a long list of people who have had their lives cut short because of government inaction. Be it cuts to aged care, health care or income support, the decisions we make in this place impact people's ability to survive. It is my job now to make sure that Maya's death was not in vain. It is my duty as the member for Brisbane to fight for my community and make sure no-one is left behind.

I am so proud to have been elected by a diverse and vibrant community to be their representative in this parliament. In our year-long campaign to win the seat, we knocked on tens of thousands of doors, made thousands of phone calls and spoke to countless people at community market stalls, protest rallies—you name it, I was there. These thousands of conversations told a story about the people of Brisbane—a story about the needs of the community. We heard about the need to address the climate crisis that we are all facing. We heard about the struggles that our communities are going through: difficulties putting food on the table, failing to seek the medical attention they need or finding themselves despondent at the accessibility to the education they want to receive. We heard from residents impacted by bad development decisions and unsustainable flight noise from Brisbane Airport. We heard from young people who didn't see themselves represented in this chamber. We heard from queer people who were desperately upset to see politicians wave rainbow flags in one moment and use their lives as a political football the next.

Eventually we saw our community's tenacity as they struggled to rebuild their lives after catastrophic flooding destroyed huge swathes of the neighbourhoods that they called home. But, when our hundreds of volunteers spoke to the people of Brisbane, we also saw them light up with hope. We saw the passion our volunteers all carried inspire community to ask for more. We spoke to people whose hope was almost lost and we asked them to send a 29-year-old gay retail worker to Canberra to fight for them. We showed them the possibility of a world where the vast wealth of our country could be used for the betterment of all of us, not just those at the top. Our message resonated with our community, and I was elected to be their representative.

I want to make it clear: I would not be standing here today if not for the passion of our volunteers who gave up countless weekends and weeknights out of their own lives to get me here. I would not be here without the people who have been putting in the work for years to build a grassroots movement dedicated to making this world a better place. There are far too many names to list in this one speech. And I cannot give enough thanks to Nathan, my campaign manager. You worked countless hours with me, kept me hopeful, kept me going and created a campaign of positivity and a campaign culture where everyone felt heard and appreciated.

I've heard many times that I'm too young for politics, that I don't seem like a politician—which is a compliment!—but it is these traits that got me here today. This election has shown that the people of this country are done with the status quo. Our parliament is becoming more and more representative of the people who vote to send us here, and I hope that my election can inspire those who are told they shouldn't be in parliament, especially young people, to get involved and to run for office, because our communities are in crisis now. They cannot wait for small targets and incremental change. This parliament needs to be brave. We need to be bold. We need to put people at the centre of policy. We need to live up to the Australia that exists in the minds of many people in this chamber but does not exist for the millions of Australians outside this Canberra bubble, because we can tackle inequality and poverty. We know what the solutions are. We have seen them here at home in years gone by and we see them in successful policies across the world. Expanding Medicare to cover dental and mental health can be done. Building enough public housing to clear waiting lists can be done. Getting to 100 per cent renewable energy by the end of this decade can be done. Making child care free and universal can be done. Restoring free uni and TAFE and wiping student debt can actually be done. The only thing standing in the way of this future is the political will for this parliament to take us there.

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